Come and See Me
by harbingeraz
Summary: One woman (Michonne) caught between the life she is building and the one she left behind. Multi-chappie fic featuring all the faves. Love, heartache, angst, indecision. " to worship until i become stone to love until i become bone." -Sonia Sanchez
1. Chapter 1

Sunlight sone through the faded lemon chiffon curtains into the garden apartment. The remains of beer cans, gutted cigars, and candy wrappers littered the coffee table that resided by the entrance. The couch housing one slumped body in a precarious state of slumber, resting upright with their shoes on, mouth slightly ajar as the sounds of a country early morning seeped under the crack in the cream-colored door. The second person, curled into the worn brown loveseat rested under a thin off-white sheet. A pitbull resting at their feet, as they tossed and turned from a restless sleep. Separated by a dwarfed wall and a drum kit, on the bed tangled in a thin blanket lied two bodies. Michonne's body rested nestled against his familiar frame. The off-white sheets with little blue flowers covered her umber and palate skin completely while his peachy toned upper body shone in the new day.

The tones of the upstairs residences coming to life drifting down the stairs, as each person stirred from slumber, the events of the previous evening came back slowly. Stretching her limbs, she removed Rick's hand from across her waist, before sliding up in bed. The scantily dressed mattress matching her current state, as she searched for her pants on the ground. Stopping to collect herself from the room spinning as she bent down, resting both perfectly manicured feet on the ground. She glanced at the disarray of the "apartment" she currently resided in. The feel of a warm hand sliding up her back taking her out of her state of contemplation.

There wasn't room to say everything that she wanted to say at that moment, as a sigh of contentment and uncertainty slipped through her lips. It didn't make sense why they'd ended up here, but it somehow made sense mere hours ago. His warm hand sliding from her back around her belly and while he slid into her personal space woke her from her concentration as she stood too quickly before flopping back on the mattress. It didn't feel good to be so out of sorts after celebrating their best friends 26th birthday. Someone had started muttering about breakfast as she came to, before extracting herself from the bed. Still, in a pair of underwear, she searched the ground until she found her jeans, which she slipped on. The other folks had roused from their states of oblivion as they sauntered around the open floor plan of the apartment. Glenn picked up a cigarette from the discarded pack on the cluttered coffee table and sauntered over to the drum kit in the corner. Banging a steady tempo, he gestured to Shane who grunted at him, while putting on his button up shirt over his black tank top.

Shane asked if they were still going to the diner for breakfast as he grabbed a cigarette from the same pack on the coffee table and lit it. Glenn, who continued to ignore everyone played the drums, twirling his sticks and switching to an R&B tempo. The *boom* *boom* *thwack* of the high hat and the kick drum pounding a steady rhythm into the bodies of the inhabitants of the apartment. "Quit it" came a voice from upstairs, which signaled it was time to depart.

Michonne had managed to sneak into the bathroom, greeting Glenn's grandmother who sat at the kitchen table watching her stories. Looking at herself in the mirror, her eyes were bloodshot and her mouth tasted like sandpaper, definitely hungover. A groan escaped her lips as she searched the medicine cabinet of the small-tile lined bathroom. The sepia of the wall reminding her of better days. With limited options for dental hygiene, Michonne picked some toothpaste out of the tube and ran it across her teeth with her index finger. Swishing and garggling, she rinsed out her mouth and threw some cold water on her face. Remembering the small bottle of lotion behind the glass of the medicine cabinet, she dried her face, adding some moisturizer to her hands and face. It wasn't much, but it made her feel more alert. Hearing Glenn's grandmother's warning tone jostled her out of her contemplation as she slipped out of the bathroom and back downstairs to the garden apartment. Glenn's dog Bones ran up to her for some snuggles with a shoe in his mouth.

Noticing the empty room, she exited through the door at the far left and into the humidity of an August day in King County. Although the breeze made an attempt, the sweltering heat of the day cracked on her skin as she stared down at her black tank top with a frown, noticing the pieces of dog hair stuck to her. Thinking about a lint brush, she didn't hear Rick's question, which he repeated until she affirmed that in fact, she was hungry. Ricky had his brother's truck for the day, and the larger double door black F150 loomed in the foreground as Shane, Glenn, and Rick milled about smoking and joking with one another. Her boys, she thought as they laughed and slapped at one another like petulant children. Without preamble, Rick entered the driver seat with a gruff 'lets go' to his passengers. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

A knock restroom at the door took her out of her staring contest with the mirror as she rinsed her mouth out for the second time that day. Who drank energy drinks, she mused as she watched the water escape down the drain. She'd puked, not thrown up or vomited, puked, like a 16-year-old lightweight at their first keg party. She puked in the diner bathroom and was so embarrassed that she just stood in the bathroom contemplating climbing out the window and walking her ass back to Atlanta. The knocking continued and a familiar voice roused her back to the current moment.

"I'm fine" she yelled back, "give me a minute". Turning the tap off, she wiped her hands on a paper towel and exited to the knowing looks of her friends. A sheepish frown casting her features as they jockeyed for who would get the funniest joke at her expense.

"Don't start" she said before Glenn could utter his 'I told you so' about getting eggs benedict when you're hungover.

"Atlanta's turned you into a bougie bitch," Shane said, to which Rick chucked. Michonne punched Shane in the arm before taking her seat beside Rick and resting her head on his shoulder. He smirked at her, glancing down at her pallid face, before saying "We can drive you back if you want". And since she hadn't really thought about how she was going to get back home she agreed. After all, she'd come home without a car and she was, for all intents and purposes, stranded in her hometown.

The drive back to Atlanta was a quiet affair as Rick turned the volume up on the radio. Glenn rode shotgun while Shane sat in the back of the truck with Michonne, staring out onto the landscape. Queen's _Under Pressure_ played through the stereo as he sped along the highway with the windows down as Glenn and Shane shimmied to the music and made lewd comments about their plans when they returned home. Rick pulled up to her two-story condo, parking on the side of the house in _Old Fourth Ward_. The yellow building with a mahogany front porch and white trim stood on a quiet street between perfectly manicured trees and a flowerbed, nestled in a quaint neighborhood for artistic types and yuppies. From the front seat, Glenn asked if he could use the washroom, and Michonne invited all of the guys into the house. The open floor plan of the first floor revealed a coral colored living room with a fireplace. The brown granite half wall island which separated the kitchen from the dining area resided at the far end of the home, which led to a back door and a small patio and yard. A half-bath was nestled on the opposite side of the living room area near the kitchen. The walnut stairs which led to the second floor was visible when you entered the front door.

Inside the modest condo, Michonne had furnished the space with a few pieces from her childhood home, including her parents mid-century modern leather couch and loveseat. Creating a distinction between the dining area, and the living room. A small circular oak table with four chairs resided close to the island wall, with a vase of _lollypop_ lilies in the center.

Shane whistled as he entered his friends home. He'd never visited, none of the guys had even when Michonne had invited them to parties, celebrations, and just to plain hang out. Michonne slapped at Shane as he gave her the 'see you are a bougie bitch' face as he tracked his sneaker-clad feet into her impeccably clean home. Michonne pointed Glenn to the washroom as Rick pulled up the rear, entering her home for the first time.

"Nice place," he said, to which she thanked him. She still refused to look at him, not for lack of trying on his part. Shane got himself comfortable on the loveseat, while Rick tinkered around her kitchen. Michonne watched him examine her home and wondered if he was impressed, or thought much like Shane, that she had sold out and was living some phony life.

"Do y'all want something to eat or drink?" she asked, finally getting herself together and walking to the refrigerator. "We ain't stayin long," Rick replied, giving her a pointed look. Ignoring him, she pulled out some waters and handed one to him, throwing the other at Shane, who fumbled to catch the bottle before snarling at her sass. Glenn emerged minutes later with wet hands and slightly wet air. Michonne asked if he fell in the toilet, while Rick just shook his head at Glenn's tomfoolery.

They were all joking when the front door opened to reveal a 6'2" broad-shouldered tan man in a black button up shirt with the sleeves ripped and khaki cargo shorts. His lace-up leather boots were caked in mud, and he was holding a cooler on one shoulder. Glancing around, he noticed the three man in the living room, smiles across their faces. Spotting him, Michonne walked to the door to grab the cooler but he just nodded for her to not bother, he had it. Finding her voice finally, she glanced at her boys and smiled. "Hey," she said to the man as he put the cooler on the side of the door. "Sup?' he replied, taking his eyes off the strangers to stare at her.

"You're back early," she said, going to give him an embrace and a kiss on the cheek. "Yeah, wasn't much out there," he replied, waiting for her to do the thing she always did.

"Daryl, these are my friends from home. Rick, Glenn, and Shane" she gestured to each man as they replied a greeting. The room growing quiet once again, she explained that they'd driven her home after the surprise party to which he thanked them for bringing _his_ girl home. After a couple more moments of talking the guys explained they had to get back to help Andrea clean up from the party. Michonne offered to walk them out, leaving Daryl to take off his muddy shoes in the entrance.

Glenn and Shane walked ahead as Michonne and Rick hung back walking slowly to the car. "Damn M..." Rick joked, smiling at his assessment of the man in her life. "Don't start," she said, swatting at his ear in a playful gesture.

"So that's you huh? You and Adam Cartwright riding off into the sunset?" he said, stopping at the front of the truck.

"I'm not doing this right now, ok. I don't want the last time I see you to be like this," she said, and he understood what she meant. He acquiesced and gave her his devilish smirk as he scooped her up into a hug.

"You two be safe out there," he said before releasing her and allowing her to say farewell to Glenn and Shane. Michonne watched the truck drive off before closing the front door and entering her home.

* * *

Michonne spent the remainder of the day relaxing with Daryl on the back porch. After taking the longest shower possible, she emerged in a pair of boy shorts and purple tank, her hair wrapped in a silk scarf as she turned down the bed. Daryl, who had waited for her with a copy of some motorcycle magazine waited for her in their queen sized bed, a side lamp casting a warm glow on his shirtless torso. As she slid into bed he looked up and smiled at her. They were good together, had been for a while now. She leaned into him, giving him a chaste kiss before fluffing her pillows.

"That them?" he said, bringing up the three men he'd met earlier that day. "Yeah, those are them" she replied. She'd told him so much about them her "crew" from childhood, and their days as miscreants.

"Seem like nice guys. Was Shane the one you use to date?" he asked, remembering something she'd told him at the beginning of their courtship

. "Yeah. It wasn't really dating though." she chuckled, causing him to shake his head at her.

"You _were wild_ 'Chonne" he said, smiling at her and all of the tale she'd told him about her youthful exuberance.

"We were young and foolish," she said, denying that gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She was young and foolish, and yet, as the past 24 hours came back to her she faltered a bit. She wasn't sure what all of that was, but it certainly wasn't what she'd expected from a visit home. A pregnant pause later, Daryl turned off his light and settled into bed. They had a week before they were moving to California so Daryl could start his job and Michonne could start school. As sleep overtook her, she ran her hands across the expanse of Daryl's back, marveling at the road that led him to her. The small voice in her head told her that she just had to let Georgia go, and with it, everything and _everyone_ , especially him. Lulled by the hum of the ceiling fan, Michonne drifted off to sleep banishing that little voice.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooo

A/N: Hia! I hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter. I've been working through this story for a minute and I think I'm just gonna write it. This is always and forever a Michonne story, about a woman making decisions, about coming into her own and about figuring out what she wants. So if you're looking for some straight up decisive, loving R+M (or D+M) action, this is for sure not for you. There are a million other tales by talented writers who you can get your fix from. I'd like to especially thank Nwfanmega for encouraging me to 'write what I like'! Enjoy the first and second part of this story and I'll probs update once a week til it's done. -my best, my worst AZ


	2. Ch 2 the last first time pt 2

Michonne woke the next day to the chirp of her alarm. It was the last week of work before she had a few weeks off to pack and get moving. Daryl laid on his stomach, his hair tousled and sticking out like he got struck by lightning. She giggled at his open mouth snores and the pillow fort that he'd created in the middle of the night. She always marveled at how he managed to take every pillow possible and make a bed in their bed for himself. He had a loose grip on one pillow while another rested by his feet. Sometime in the middle of the night she'd managed to steal all of the top sheet and had wrapped herself like a burrito. A grunt escaped his lips and she kissed his cheek as an apology for rousing him from his slumber.

On padded feet, Michonne made her way to the bathroom to prepare for her day. After dressing in black stretch jeans and a crisp white button-up shirt, grabbing her packed lunch and an apple from the kitchen and waited for her carpool on the porch. Minutes later her friend and colleague Aaron pulled up giving a wolf whistle and wiggling eyebrows as she got into the car, tossing her leather satchel in the back seat. Aaron revved off into the day, while Michonne sat quietly in the passenger seat. Ten minutes into their drive Aaron broke the silence with a "Please don't leave me with these incompetent assholes Michonne."

"Aaron! I can't help you with your problem." laughing at the fact that they'd had this conversation for the last two weeks, as soon as she put her notice in at work.

"Please Michonne. Or let me come with you. I'll be your third and we can live happily ever after." Michonne smiled her 1000 watt smile and shook her head.

"Aaron, you know Eric would be pissed and there's no way I'm letting you anywhere near Daryl. I see you checking him out all the time." tilting her head to the side with a 'gotya' smirk on her lips.

"I'm engaged, not dead. Your man is hot as hell." to which she nodded appreciatively. The two continued their banter until they got to work, parking and heading up to the brick office building. Michonne hadn't thought she'd be working at a corporate office, but here she was, with her designated cubicle selling motivational speakers to middle managers in the heartland. After departing from Aaron, she busied herself with her tasks for the week, and put her head down.

Hours later her phone ringing took her out of her concentration. The flashing name not who she'd expected to be contacting her on a Monday, much less mere hours from when they'd last corresponded. They didn't do that, not anymore. Letting it go to voicemail she continued with her projects. Around lunch, she walked outside to get some sun and call Daryl. After checking in with him, she picked checked her voicemail.

" _Hey. It's me. I...uggg… found your necklace in the truck. I'm pretty busy this week to make a trip, but I can mail it to ya, or drop it off with your dad. Anyway, call me back."_

Michonne stood in the middle of the sidewalk chewing her lip, a nervous habit she'd picked up from Daryl, and decided to call Rick back. The phone rang a few times before he picked up.

"Hello?" he asked. "Hey. I got your message" she responded.

"Yeah, well what do you want me to do with your necklace?" he asked, getting to the point.

"I'll come." she said, wondering why she'd decided this was the best course of action. "I have to get some boxes from my daddy, and ugh… I can stop by and pick it up this weekend" she offered, to which he agreed.

They made plans to exchange the necklace on Saturday. Getting off the phone, Michonne kicked herself for being so irresponsible. She bit her lip again thinking about how foolish it was to make the hour and a half trip, knowing she wasn't going to get the necklace, not really.

* * *

Aaron honked as he dropped Michonne off that afternoon. She noticed Daryl's car in the driveway and walked up the steps, letting herself in and dropping her satchel by the door, and slipping her shoes off. Daryl was sitting in the living room, papers strewn about as he gnawed on his thumb. The faint sound of _Billy Strings_ filled the room as she watched him focus intently on some document.

"If you stare at it hard enough it'll answer all your questions.' she said, sauntering over and giving him a quick kiss before slumping into the loveseat.

"Paul sent some notes over about the recording, but I can't seem to figure it out none." he replied, handing over the page with music jargon and terrible handwriting.

"You're gonna need a cryptographer to get this one." she replied, handing him back his paper and curling into her seat.

"You want pizza or Thai tonight? I didn't get to the store today." She knew it'd been a busy day with him finishing up at the studio before they left.

"Thai. Oh, can we get the pad see ew?" to which he scrunched up his nose.

"Daryl! You can't just get chicken and rice every time. You're taking my bougie black girl card away" a robust laugh escaped his lips as he got off the floor and stood in front of her, she smirked up at him, using her dainty foot to tickle behind his knees.

"Woman!" he began, as she tried to escape his clutches, but before she could get up he'd sat directly on her, crushing her into the loveseat. High pitched giggles fell from her heart-shaped lips as he wiggled on top of her until she called 'uncle'. Moving some to make room for him, he slid beside her, grabbing her legs and pulling her into his embrace. The two sat quietly as he twirled a loc around his finger affectionately.

After dinner, Daryl and Michonne curled up on their couch and started another episode of _The Wire_. It'd taken some cajoling from Michonne, but Daryl was hooked. They'd each grabbed a beer and sipped them silently, content to be in each others spheres. His phone ringing took them out of the moment as he picked her legs off him and walked towards the kitchen, asking if she wanted another beer, which she replied an affirmative to. When he returned, she asked "Who was that?" to which he replied "Merle". A groan escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

"Sorry. What does he want?" she tolerated Daryl's brother for him, but he was a piece of work.

"Wanted to go hunting this weekend," he said.

"Oh. Well, that sounds painful. You going?" she asked.

"Yeah. Won't be seein' him none after we leave" he said with a tinge of guilt in his voice.

"Don't feel bad for following your dreams D. He's got to understand that" to which he grunted.

"Oh, I actually need the truck to get boxes from my daddy this weekend" she looked at his expression to gauge his response. He loved his truck, and she drove fast and loose like she'd missed her calling to be a NASCAR driver.

"Chonne…" Daryl started

"Come on D! I'll be good to Betty. I'll even drive the speed limit" she said batting her eyelashes as he shook his head. He was gonna give her the car anyway, but when she batted her lashes like an innocent fawn, he couldn't say no.

"Fine. But you gotta fill the tank, and get 'er washed"

"Deal! Let's keep watching, I wanna know what happens to McNutty next" she said doing her best _Bubble_ impression.

* * *

Saturday morning rolled around faster than she realized as she felt Daryl kiss her goodbye. Checking the clock she saw it was 6 AM, and with no desire to leave the comfort of her bed, she grabbed one of his pillows and fell back to sleep. Around 10, she had showered, dressed in a loose white tank and cutoff overalls to make the drive back home. The landscape whizzed by as she made the familiar turns along the highway, getting off at the exit and heading towards town. She passed the main drag of town before heading towards her childhood home. The paved road turned into a dirt road as she made her way to the robins egg blue one story ranch-style house. The driveway had two cars parked already and she wondered who else was home with her father.

Getting out of the car, Michonne pocketed her keys and walked through the unlocked front door. The lith of a high pitched voice drew a questioning frown from Michonne. Rounding the corner out of the front, Michonne walked to the back of the house to find her father and Deanna Monroe standing close to one another laughing with a familiarity of longtime friends. Michonne cleared her throat, causing the two to move farther apart, and glance in her direction.

"Hi Daddy" Michonne began

"Hi baby girl. You remember Mrs. Monroe?" he asked to which she greeted Deanna. Michonne's father Reganold smiled at his baby girl. With close-cropped onyx hair greying at the temples, a warm umber skin tone much like his progeny's and a medium built Reganold Deville was the epitome of dapper daddies. At the ripe age of 60, he'd seen a great deal of the world from his days in the Navy and instilled a love of adventure and curiosity into his baby girl.

Reg, Deanna, and Michonne enjoyed a late lunch of grilled chicken caesar salads and light conversation. Michonne told Deanna about her graduate studies and Deanna talked more about her early retirement from the Superintendent's office. "I'm just sick of politics. And now that the boys are gone, I can spend some time doing all the things I want to do. It's lonely in that old house." Deanna remarked, a sad tilt of her head in Reg's direction. An unspoken current passed between the two that Michonne noticed but did not remark upon.

"Well, I'm glad my dad's been such a good friend to you recently," Michonne said earnestly, to which her father nodded appreciatively, this was a conversation for another time.

Michonne excused herself to the washroom, stopping along the way to stare at the family portrait in the hall. Three people smiling affectionately at the camera, her father in a black _Polo_ standing behind a seated woman in an eggshell dress. The woman's blemish free russet features shining with hints of gold and rose. A smiling Michonne stood beside the woman and in front of her father wearing a seashell dress with ruffles along the collar, and closed-toe black shoes, and white ruffle socks. Her hair separated into three braids, with white barrett's clinching the braids at the top and bottom. Moisture slipped onto her chin before she realized she was crying. Wiping her face quickly with the back of her hand she slipped into the familiar washroom which had been renovated with wooden molding, giving it a log cabin feel.

After collecting herself, she stared into the mirror and tried to smile. It felt forced, and she wondered if it ever got easier, this feeling of missing. Shaking her head to rid herself of the gnaw, she placed a cold washcloth over her eyes to reduce the swelling. Taking a deep breath, she exited the washroom and went in search of her daddy and Deanna, finding them sitting quietly in the backyard with her hand resting on top of his in comfort. Michonne coughed to get their attention again, a bit childish of a move, but she didn't want to startle them or make it awkward.

"I gotta go pick something up from Rick's before I head back to the city," she said, before crossing the distance to embrace her father and his new friend.

* * *

Driving along the subdivision, Michonne marveled at the sheer sizes of the newer houses built over the last five years in town. Rick's two-story house with ornate shutters, stood out to her. An alabaster tone with grey roof and grey trim, the home screamed 'money'. The perfectly manicured lawn, with sconces and perfectly trimmed shrubs, rested in front of a lush abet small cluster of woods which separated Rick from his neighbors. The space between each home, a contrast to her city condo. Exiting the truck, Michonne pulled into the driveway on the right side of the front door and walked up the brick paved walkway. Ringing the bell one, then twice, she waited with her hands in her pockets for him to answer. The faint shuffle of feet reached her ears as she prepared herself.

A lazy smile graced his face as he gestured behind him to enter his home, which she did slowly. Inside, the house looked more lived in. Shoes were strewn haphazardly by the front entrance, and the sitting room had a few empty beer cans on the glass coffee table and socks on the sectional. He offered her a drink of water, which she accepted, following him into his spacious country kitchen. Sitting at the black granite island, Michonne watched Rick take out two bottles of water from his stainless steel refrigerator, the one with the freezers on the bottom. He plopped down beside her in the high back stools and waited for her to take a sip, keeping his stoic blues on the way she swallowed the water. The intensity of his stare not dissuading her from remaining silent in the moment, she savored the cold water as it soothed the heat from the outdoors.

Rick Reached into his pocket and took out her necklace, dangling it in front of her face. She signed, placing her half-full bottle down before reaching for the gold chain. Rick moved his unobstructed hand to clasp hers, sandwiching them and resting his hands on the island. Michonne tried to ignore the soft swipe of his thumb against the top of her knuckles, opting to silently pull her hand away to no avail. He wouldn't let go, and she battled with herself, knowing that they'd have to let go, eventually.

"I'm happy for you," he said unprompted.

"You said that last week at Andrea's, remember" she replied letting her shoulders relax as he continued his ministrations. A smile graced his lips, and she knew that he'd keep her here all day if she didn't say anything.

"I mean it. You're living your dream. Shit, I'm scared of leaving, but not you Michonne." he offered, releasing her hand and leaning back into his seat.

"Well, one of us needs to leave this black hole of a town. I mean, you just _had_ to come back Rick. Really?" she said, giving him grief for the thousandth time.

"So… you really gonna marry that country ass boy?" he asked, glancing at her finger, which housed her engagement ring. The simple opal gemstone rested in the center of a thin gold band which shone against her umber skin. Daryl called it understated, she thought it was perfect for them.

"He's not a boy" she deadpanned.

"But he sure is country. If you wanted somethin' country Michonne, ya coulda just said so" Rick replied with a self-satisfied look.

"Shane was already taken Rick, couldn't go where a girl isn't wanted," she said, knowing she'd get a rise out of him. A beat passed before he said "About Saturday". Michonne shook her head no.

"We're good," she said, before continuing "I'm going to miss you Dimples" reaching over Michonne squeeze his cheek as he slapped at her hand.

"Don't come home eatin' kale and talkin' 'bout going vegan when you come back for Christmas," Rick said, breaking the moment and giving her an out.

"Who said I was coming home for Christmas?" she said, giving him her best poker face.

"You know Reg ain't havin' none of that miss thang" he replied knowing her father would in fact not take kindly to his only child not returning for the holidays.

"Whatever. I'll be seein' ya soon. Be good" she said, getting up from the table abruptly and walking through the hallway. She stopped at the door, turned around and slid into his embrace. The feel of his muscular back and biceps lulling her into a familiar sense of home. She breathed in the smell of _Irish Spring,_ citrus, stale smoke, and the hint of fresh cut grass, burying her nose in the crook of his neck. Michonne felt Rick's lips at the top of her head, before she moved out of his embrace and walked through his front door, maybe for the last time.

* * *

On the way she turned on radio but found nothing worth listening to so she put on the CD currently in rotation. Generally, she enjoyed Daryl's taste in music but some of the bluegrass was a bit much for her. After the first album ended, the second began while a sad guitar filled the cab of the truck as she hummed along to the familiar melody of Lara Lynn

 _Change will come to those who_

 _Have no fear_

 _But I'm not her, you never were_

 _The kind who kept a rule book near_

 _What I said was never_

 _What I meant_

 _And now you've seen my world in flames my_

 _Shadow songs my deep regrets_

Michonne, turned off the highway, getting closer to her home. She felt for her necklace on her throat but remembered it was holding vigil in her pocket. The sun shone against her left hand as she glanced at her ring, her promise to Daryl and herself that she'd move forward. And yet, the phantom thread pulsing from the recesses of her heart to her hometown strummed like the melancholic guitar of the song she had played as second time.

 _Weren't we like a pair of thieves_

 _With tumbled locks and broken codes_

 _You cannot take that from me_

 _My small reprieves_

 _Your heart of gold_

 _Weren't we like a battlefield_

 _Locked inside a holy war_

 _Your love and my due diligence_

 _The only thing worth fighting for_

xxxooooxxxxoooxxxoo

 _A/N:_ Thanks for reading. More to come.


	3. 3first comes fodder, then comes morality

"...Modernity… abstraction of the mind… what Stone said in the seminal piece…Policy Paradox..." To say that Michonne was distraction would be the understatement of the century. It was the second to last class of the semester at theUniversity of Southern California and she couldn't discern a single GRE word coming out of her professors mouth. Tucking a stray loc behind her ear, Michonne glanced back to the open word document with her notes. Although the class wasn't a giant lecture, the 20 students that sat around the rectangle seating of the room seemed just as disengaged. A notification for an email broke her out of her focus as she clicked on it. The simple four-line message causing a ghost of a smile to cross her lips

" _*slap*_

 _It's almost December and no word, you wound me M. I know you're coming home soon. Come see me."_

No signature, so typical, like he knew he didn't have to say who he was, cuz she knew.

* * *

"Daryl?" Michonne called as she walked into their two bedroom apartment. The place was significantly smaller than the condo they'd shared in Atlanta, but with her work-study job and the cost of living on the coast, they'd settled into the place nicely. Most of their furniture had fit into the apartment, and what didn't fit Michonne had asked her father to keep at their home. The second floor apartment was painted Alice blue with beige carpet in the living room, a small eating area to the left of the front door. On the right, was the hallway that led to a moderate sized bathroom and two bedrooms which shared a wall. Daryl and Michonne used the second room as a guest room and office/studio. Michonne dropped her leather satchel on the trunk by the front door and walked towards the bedroom, glancing at the bathroom door which was open with the fan on. Daryl stood in the middle of their bedroom, wearing a beige towel around his waist as rivulets of water ran from his truffle colored myspace hair which stuck up like he'd been electrocuted. Michonne marveled at her man as he continued to type on his phone in consternation.

"D?" she said, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his wet and bare torso. Daryl stilled as Michonne kissed the expanse of his back, before turning into her embrace and placing a firm kiss against her lips. Deepening the kiss, Michonne ran her hands along the peaks and valleys of his back, pushing her body flush against his. Not to be outdone, Daryl grabbed a handful of Michonne's pliant bottom, giving it a squeeze. Michonne was the first to break the liplock, as Daryl pouted at the loss of her supple flesh against his.

"I'm wet Daryl" Michonne remarked at the droplets of water scattered across her t-shirt to which he replied "That was the point Chonne" reaching between them to run his hands down her taut stomach and skimming the flesh of her hip with his index finger.

"You're a tease," she said, sliding her free hand down his back and giving his ass a tap, causing him to grunt. "Ain't no tease 'Chonne" Daryl replied but Michonne didn't have a moment to react when he pushed her onto their bed, giggles escaping her lips as he turned around to shake is booty to his own beat.

Throwing his wet towel at her, Michonne waited as he crawled up the bed until he rested comfortably between her legs. The words slipping from her mind as he kissed her lips, stealing her breath while his large hands slid under her shirt to massage her pert breasts. Michonne basked in the feel of Daryl's muscular frame towering over her as the sound of her zipper sliding down their tracks flushed her body with heat. Daryl's lips took the well traveled journey to her delta, leaving in their wake soft pecks and bites. Sliding her jeans and panties down her legs Michonne stared into his steele grey/blue eyes. A moan escaped her lips as she heard "you are wet Chonne" before all coherent thought left her mind as Daryl worshipped her with his mouth.

Blissed out from their afternoon delight, Michonne laid in bed working on her final while Daryl slipped out of bed to the office to review some tracks. Her hands ran across the keys as she finished the last paragraph, before saving the file. With nothing to do but read, Michonne went back to her emails and clicked on the message. Biting her lip, she pressed reply and quickly cobbled together a few sentences before sending. Looking over her words she felt a tinge of uncertainty, but closed the window before she could second guess herself. It was already done.

Gathering her barings Michonne grabbed her jeans from the floor and shimmied into them before putting her damn shirt into the hamper in the corner of the room. Ruffling through her drawers, she grabbed another t shirt and went in search of Daryl. She stood at the door of the studio/office with her hands resting akembo, watching him nod to the music in his headphones. The larger noise-canceling black and gold headphones obstructing his pretty face, and causing a giggle to escape her lips. He looked so focused, she thought as she moved from her perch to rub his shoulders. Leaning into her touch, Daryl removed the headphones and smiled.

"Anything good?" she asked, listening to the faint sound of a fiddle coming through the speakers. "S'aright. Needs something tho," he replied, asking for her opinion in his way.

"Let me listen?" she said rising her voice as a question, but also a statement. Taking the headphones from around his neck he gestured for her to take them which she did, while staking a seat in his lap. Daryl watched her face as he rewound the song to gauge her reaction. Her breath coming out even as he played with her shoulder length loc absentmindedly. The two lovers framed against the glow of the large computer monitor.

* * *

Three days later, Michonne found herself on Daryl's arm somewhere in Hollywood. She'd opted for a simple white button up over a burgundy leather vest and skin tight black leather pants and three-inch black heels (it was LA after all). Daryl was rocking his distressed (and boy could they use some tender, loving care) black jeans and a black button up. After a mini-crisis of searching the house, he'd found his black leather vest with the embroidered wings, which he'd insisted on wearing. Michonne rolled her eyes when he'd spent 15 minutes behind her in the bathroom styling his hair, which looked like he'd just woken up and tousled it with his fingers, than him spending time actually putting mousse in it and running it through with a comb.

The amber lights of the bar cast a warm glow over the patrons as they prepared for a showcase of a new talent for Daryl's company. Michonne sat in a booth at the back as Daryl worked the room, talking to a few coworkers and acquaintances. Sipping a bourbon on the rocks, Michonne absentmindedly played with her necklace as she watched Daryl engage a short white man with stringy blonde hair holding a guitar. The man said something, causing Daryl to shake his head and point in her direction. The blonde man glanced in her direction and gave her a hod of acknowledgement which she returned, lifting her glass in cheers. Daryl pat the man on the back and walked to the booth, sliding in and placing her arm around her shoulders and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Who was that?" she asked, watching the man walk to the left of the stage area and plug in while a drummer with a basic kit twisted a symbol into its stand. A petite blonde girl with an acoustic guitar walked to the center of the stage taking a seat in the front, while another woman, a brunette carrying a travel-light cherry wood bass guitar found her spot on the right, framing the blonde girl in the middle.

"That's Dwight. He was askin' 'bout you," Daryl said, running his hand along Michonne's tricept, a familiar and calming gesture. She nuzzled into his side, resting her head into the crook of his neck as her right hand rested comfortably on his thigh.

"Told me that I was either really smart or damn funny to get a girl like you," Daryl finished. A burst of a belly laugh escaped her throat at Daryl's admission.

"You could have just told him that you were a great lay," she said with a quirked eyebrow.

"So that's what's keepin' ya round?" he said with a smirk.

"That, and even though you refuse to actually eat vegetables, you're a great cook," she said, kissing the space between his neck and collarbone. An umm escaped his lips, as the lights turned down and the band began an uptempo number.

* * *

Michonne stood in front of the bathroom mirror, washing her hands when the brunette bass player emerged from one of the stalls. Glancing at the woman through the mirror, she smiled at her. "Y'all sounded great out there," Michonne said, a courtesy she'd come to adopt from her time in the arts scene.

"Thanks!" the young woman chirped, her pretty pink tinted lips curving into a smile. "I was shakin' like a leaf out there. Damn near fell off the stage!" she said, shaking her head at the admission.

"I didn't notice, so you're good," Michonne replied, trying to comfort the woman in the moment. "Thanks again!" the young woman remarked before the two walked back to the bar area.

As she got closer, Michonne noticed the blonde girl talking to Daryl. Her wide eyes softening as Daryl talked to her. Michonne could see her body leaning into him, the way she turned in his direction and how her tiny fingers rested gingerly on his forearm. Michonne walked slowly towards the two before placing a hand on his right shoulder and planting a kiss on his cheek. The girl took a subtle step back as she watched Daryl wrap his arm around Michonne's waist and gave her a squeeze. The moment between the two, passed so quickly one would not have noticed the flicker of sadness cross the younger woman's face before she stared at Daryl.

"Beth, this is my girl, Michonne," Daryl said, turning to gesture between the two women.

"Hi Michonne," Beth said with a shyness to her voice.

"Hey Beth. You sounded beautiful up there. You're very talented," Michonne remarked, removing any tension the girl had received from her emergence into their conversation. Beth flushed in the cheeks at the compliment.

"Thank you," she said. "So are all the members in the Greene Family band related?" Michonne followed, wanting to move the conversation forward.

"Just my sister Maggie, the bassist. Dwight we met here in LA and Tom was a craigslist find," Beth offered.

"Lots of good things can come from Craigslist," Daryl remarked, causing a smile to form on Michonne's face.

"Oh, I met your sister in the bathroom. She can shred on the bass," Michonne said, mincing her words.

"Shred 'Chonne?" Daryl said with a playfulness.

"What! I know it's folk music, but your sister has the stuff!" Michonne remarked "I didn't stutter Dixon" she said, pinching him on the bicep.

"Anyway, Beth, please excuse me. I'm going to get another drink before the next act. D, do you want anything?" she asked, knowing he wasn't drinking tonight "Soda water," he replied to which she nodded and walked towards the bar.

* * *

"That was nice," Michonne remarked, throwing her heels haphazardly behind the front door. They'd stayed for the second and third act but opted to head home instead of the after party which was being held by the studio.

"Yeah, not too bad for a Friday," Daryl remarked tossing his vest onto the couch, as a grumble escaped Michonne "Not there!" she said, to which he just shrugged, not picking up the vest. "I'll get it later," he remarked as she walked down the hall to the bathroom to remove her makeup and grab a toothbrush. After washing her face, she walked into their bedroom unzipping her vest before tossing it on the floor. "Not there!" Daryl said in a deadpan, causing Michonne to laugh and toss her shirt onto the floor beside the vest.

Moments later Michonne and Daryl curled up in bed with her laptop browsing for something to watch.

"What about that" she said "We aren't watching _The Iron Giant_ again 'Chonne," he said, scrolling up, causing her to pout.

"Why?" she whined as he clicked on _Peaky Blinders._ "That show is so violent," she remarked but acquiesce to his choice.

"You like all the romance stuff in it," he replied.

"Speaking of romance, Beth Greene sure does laugh at your not funny jokes" she said. Daryl eyed her a moment, not registering what she was implying.

"You jealous 'Chonnie? I mean, she's cute for a kid but you know I only got eyes for one woman," he said

"Kerry Washington!" they said together bursting in laughter.

"I can't believe she's your top choice" Michonne huffed, snuggling into his side like a baby kitty.

"Why do you think I don't complain none when you're watching _Scandal_?" Daryl said running his finger along her nose.

"I thought it was cuz you were Team Olitz, but I know you're a secret Olake fan and I'm not sure how this relationship will survive D."

Daryl ran his hands along her neck, massaging it firmly before planting a firm kiss to her puckered lips.

"But for real 'Chonne, it's just you" he said before kissing her again, slinking his hand under her shirt and running his hands across the expanse of her belly. "I know," she sighed, grabbing his hair and returning his kiss.

* * *

 **15 days later**

Wrapped in her Loden peacoat and an oblong beige scarf Michonne watched the baggage carousel jumpstart. Her leather satchel rested on her right shoulder comfortably as she watched bags meander around the circle. Daryl emerged from the washroom drying his hands on his navy blue jeans, his leather jacket open, exposing his white v-neck shirt. He stood behind her as they waited for their bags, rubbing circles on the small of her back. Michonne rested her head against his chest as they waited, enjoying the quiet moment before the holidays. Over the last two years, they'd driven from Atlanta to visit her father, but this year they were getting picked up by Reg who would take them to her home for a few days. Michonne's mind wandered, as Dary's gruff voice registered. "Got em" he said, throwing his duffel bag over his shoulder and rolling her wheeled bag behind him.

They made it across the airport to the designated pick up area, when Michonne's phone vibrated. "Hi Daddy" she started "Yeah. Ok. We're at the North terminal... Yes daddy… no daddy. Ok" she said, as she pointed to the silver Chevy Tahoe that pulled up to the curb. Reg emerged from the driver seat, walking with determination to embrace his baby girl. Michonne rested in her father's embrace as she whispered "I missed you" into his ear. Letting go Reg embraced Daryl in a familiar hug, before popping the trunk and disposing of their luggage.

Michonne sat in the back of the car while Reg and Daryl talked. She watched the busy city streets zip by as they made it to the highway, towards home.

After placing her and Daryl's belongings in her old room, Michonne walked into the kitchen to grab something to drink. The faint sound of Daryl and Reg laughing in the living room directed her feet. Michonne stood in the doorway watching Reg direct Daryl where to discard a box of ornaments. They'd planned to get a Christmas tree after lunch, so Reg and Daryl had been hard at work getting all of the accoutrements to bring a sense of festiveness to Michonne's childhood home.

"What's going on?" Michonne asked, laughing at the layer of dust covering Daryl's cheek.

"Your old man's got me lifting boxes like a mover," Daryl remarked "Who you callin' old Dixon? I ain't old, I'm perfectly seasoned. You'll learn someday," Reg said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Seasoned Daddy? More like overly marinated old man," Michonne said "wait, more like pickled… preserved?" she said, keeping the joke going for far longer than was necessary.

"We get it baby, but you aren't a spring chicken anymore," her father replied before adding "are those wrinkles I saw earlier?" Michonnes smile fell as she picked up her phone to check her face for wrinkles. Reg and Daryl shared a knowing look before pearls of laughter echoed in the living room.

"Very funny. I'm going to look young forever, just like Mama," Michonne said emphatically. Her smile faltering as she registered her statement, as her father's onyx eyes shone with mirth.

"You're right baby, you'll look young like your mama forever," he said. The blanket of sadness that draped over the two lingered for a few seconds, Michonne gravitated towards her dad to give him a hug.

As he rubbed her back in understanding "She'd be very happy for you baby. You know that right?" Reg asked. "I know daddy," she replied in almost a whisper.

Daryl stood to the side as the two shared a moment of remembrance, basking in the silent understanding and love that flowed from daughter to father. Michonne moved from her father's embrace to stand beside Daryl, licking her thumb before wiping the dust smudge on his cheek. Reg watched the gesture with approval.

"Did you just put your spit on me?" Daryl asked incredulously, causing Michonne to shrug and smirk "Come on, it's not that gross," she replied. Daryl wiped his face wit the back of his hand before licking his palm and wiping it on her face. A squeal erupted from Michonne, breaking the blanket of sadness. "You're the worst!" she said with exasperation, "But you still love me" Daryl replied, giving her a kiss.

After a light lunch the three got back into the car to go to the Christmas tree farm near Byron. Michonne had whined until her dad let her drive to the farm. Daryl and Reg both did the sign of the cross as they exited the car. "What?" she asked unphased by her daredevil driving antics. "Reg, please drive home" Daryl said to which Reg nodded solemnly. His little heart couldn't take her daughters driving on a good day. "I'm driving back!" Michonne said "Nah, ya aint" Daryl replied, holding his hands out for the keys which she dropped in his hands, spinning on her heels and walking to the farm without waiting for her fiance and father.

The farm owner, a tall white man who wore a snug pair of overalls gave them the lay of the land before leaving the three to find their perfect tree. Lost in the maze of trees, Michonne heard her name being called by a recognizable voice.

"Well lookie here" Shane said as she turned to meet his rich brown eyes, his hands running through his thick mane of wavy hair.

"Hia darlin" Michonne said, surprised to see him at all. Walking into Shane's waiting arms, Michonne gave a firm hug to her longtime friend.

"Did you see the one over there," a higher pitched voice said, coming around the row of trees towards the two friends. "Oh, hey," the raven haired woman stood watching the two step out of their embrace with a questioning glance. Taking the initiative Michonne took two steps forward with her hand extended "Hi. I'm Michonne."

"Trish. Nice to meet you," the woman replied, returning the handshake with a firmness that surprised Michonne. Oblivious as always Shane stood between the two women with a full blown smile, pearly white teeth shining in the sun.

"Nice to meet you too," Michonne responded politely. Not one for small talk Shane interjected in an accusatory tone and said "You didn't tell me you were comin' back to these parts doll," causing Trish to quirk her eyebrow in question.

"Yeah, uh well, I told Rick. Figured he'd tell y'all, or I'd just show up at the bar later this week since that's where y'all are usually," Michonne responded nonchalauntly.

"Michonne" her father's voice came from behind her, with Daryl in the tailgate. "Hey daddy, you remember Shane don't ya? And this here is Trish," Michonne said gesturing to the woman flanking Shane in an almost protective manner.

"Course I remember that boy. You sure did spring up like a weed Shane," Reg said.

"Nice to see you Mr. Deville, you're lookin' well," Shane's parental polite voice taking the stage, as the two men shook hands. Daryl stood quietly on the side nodding in Shanes direction.

"Daryl, you remember Shane" Michonne said, reaching for him so he could stand beside her. Daryl and Shane exchanged greetings quickly.

"So, we found a tree," Reg interjected "Good, cuz I'm getting hungry," Michonne said as her stomach rumbled on cue.

"When ain't you hungry?" Shane remarked. Michonne punched him in the arm before discretely flipping him off.

"Whatever. Don't act like you know me like that Walsh," Michonne said with a playfulness in her tone. "I've known you like that since you were a mousy 6th grader with big ass glasses" Shane said before saying sorry for cussing in front of her dad.

"We gotta go, but I'll call you?" Michonne asked.

"Ug, actually, Andrea's throwin' a fire on Thursday if you and Daryl wanna come by," Shane offered. "Sure,what time?" Michonne agreed and Daryl nodded. "Same time as always, party time" Shane said before adding "Be seein' yall," and walking away as Trish practically dragged Shane away looking a bit perturbed.

* * *

That night, after dinner and a few games of _Codename_ , courtesy of Michonne's circa two Christmases ago, the couple laid in bed. Reg was definitely old, she mused as he didn't put up a fight about Daryl staying in her room this year. Michonne's old room, almost perfectly preserved. The lavender walls housed posters of _Omer Epps_ as "Othello", _Leo DiCaprio_ as "Romeo", and _Ethan Hawke_ as "Hamlet" beside the cast of _Girlfriends, Brandy and Monica_ a-la The boy is Mine, and a huge poster of the Milky Way Galaxy hung above her queen sized bed. Pictures of Michonne is the school play holding a bouquet of flowers between her doting parents rested beside hair ties and a professional headshots of her in her high school and college graduation regalia. Although it wasn't late, Michonne felt exhausted, and ws content to lay in silence beside Daryl. The sound of _Riders on the Storm_ broke the silence as Michonne signed, friggen Merle.

"Yeah" Daryl said, picking up the phone and getting out of bed. Although Michonne and Merle had come to an understanding, there were a few things she just couldn't come around with. Well Merle being a huge asshole being the major thing. Daryl walked back into the room and plopped into the bed.

"What does Deliverance want?" she asked.

"Thought we'd moved past you callin' my brother a hick 'Chonne. That's plain petty," Daryl grumbled crossing his arms.

"I'm sorry, ok. He wasn't the nicest when we were leaving, telling you you were gonna fail. That's not cool," Michonne responded, watching his demeanor change.

"Well, he was seein' if I wanted to go huntin' before the holiday," Daryl replied.

"He _can_ come spend Christmas with us you know. I never said he couldn't," Michonne said.

"S'just feels weird for him s'all. He'd rather spend it alone," Daryl replied and Michonne nodded. She'd been trying to get Merle to come spend Christmas with her family for the last two years, since things got serious between her and Daryl but he wouldn't budge on it. "Fine, so when does he want you to visit?" Michonne asked

"Wants to come get me on Wednesday and stay til Saturday," Daryl replied.

"But you'll miss the party," Michonne said "You know I ain't never spent time with your friends before, they won't be missin' me none," he offered.

"But, what about me?" she said, sitting on his knees and resting her hands on his chest.

"What 'bout you? You got your lil posse full of admirers and boys graveling at your petty feet," he said, sliding his hands up and down her bare thighs.

"What boys?" Michonne feigning innocence.

"Come on now, I ain't no blind man 'Chonne," Daryl said. "Plus don't you and that Shane fella have a history?" he raised his eyebrow at her.

"When I said we dated Daryl, we were teenagers, nothing serious. Just some light petting and a few smooches," she said.

"Smooches 'Chonne? And what the hell is 'light petting?'"

"It's like before you get to the heavy petting. All above board, or clothes. We were stupid kids," she replied hoping to get off the subject.

"Well, he better be lightly pettin' that Tara girl and keep is paws off ya," Daryl said.

Michonne loved that Daryl wasn't some weirdo alpha type all the time, grunting around 'claiming her' as his, but he had tendencies.

"No one's gonna be petting me but you," Michonne replied "And her name was Trish," she admonished him.

"Her name could be Mother Teresa for all I care,"

"You're mean Daryl Dixon" Michonne said, leaning in to give him a soft kiss "But you love me," he said.

"I do. I love you Daryl," she responded falling into his chest and kissing alongside his neck, blazing a path to his lips before claiming them for her own.

"Mine" she said, to which he laughed.

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A/N: Hi y'all! New week, New Update. With that in mind, a few questions wil get answered as we move along. Just trust that things will get answered, and that all the murky feels from the first tow chapters will come to play later. Regarding what type of story this is, as I said before this is a Michonne story. Every thing and every one else is fodder for our Heronie getting her life, and figuring out what she wants. So if you hld loyalites to any man-folk, this may not be the place. I'm really trying to engage in human-ness and that means messy, so if you're looking for some clear cut love tale, I'm sorry, but this ain't it. Thanks for reading as always, and I greatly appreciate anyone who has taken a minute to comment, all the follows and faves. I'll try to write a story I love and hope you'll all love it too. -my best, my worst, AZ


	4. Chapter 4 my best, my worst

A/N: Apologies for the long wait. Life got as busy as a Marvel movie cameo session. So, I'm just gonna post this chapter. Thanks for reading, and for giving this story a chance. I swear things will get answered as the story moves along. This chapter is a bit dilaogue heavy, so just be ready. But! Ive got a flashback on the way, so that's exciting. Anyway, thanks again for reading and I appreciate y'all.

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The sound of a loud engine broke through the quiet morning as Michonne, Reg, and Daryl finished their breakfast sandwiches. Two curt honks could be heard as Michonne watch Daryl walk towards her room to grab his overnight bag. Reg raised an eyebrow, but Michonne remained mum. Taking a deep breath, she left the kitchen and walked towards the front door. Walking outside in the chilled morning with her hands hugging her chest, Michonne stepped up to the rusty red Ford Focus, tapping the passenger side window to get the drivers attention. Merle put the car in 'park' before rolling down the window.

"You aren't going to come say hello?" Michonne accused with a raised eyebrow.

"Why hello there my Nubian princess," Merle said with a discolored tooth smile "Nice of you to be the bigger person and all,"

Ignoring the petulant tone of the older Dixon, Michonne leaned into the window "Where y'all going this time?" she asked.

"Down near Chickasawhatchee pretty lady. You wanna come for a ride with ol Merle?"

"I'll pass. Oh, and Merle, you keep him outta trouble and you be nice now," she replied pointing a finger in his direction.

"When am I not nice sugar?' Merle said, tilting his head to the side and putting on his best angelic face for her. Michonne had to laugh, Merle was a lot of things, but he was quick witted and could sometimes be nice to her.

"I mean it Merle. No bullshit. And stop calling me Nubian Princess… I'm a damn Queen," she said, causing a guffaw to escape the older Dixon's mouth.

"Right ya 're 'Chonne," he replied, shaking his head. "When y'all get back, you're staying for dinner," Michonne said with finality to which Merle 'yes ma'am'd' her. Daryl had made it down the stairs and walked towards the backseat, throwing his gear with the rest of Merle's stuff.

"Have fun D," Michonne said, as he wrapped his arms around her giving her a solid kiss on the mouth.

"Be seein' ya," he replied before getting in the hunk of junk car and hitting the roof twice to indicate he was ready.

Going back into the house Michonne spotted Reg sitting casually at the dining room table reading the paper. "You alright baby girl?" Reg asked, looking for any signs of distress from his daughter as a result of the other Dixon.

"Yeah, daddy. Merle' a piece of work," she sighed, sitting on her father's right.

"You know your mama's brother Louis was the same way with me" he offered "Damn near had an aneurysm when I walked in their house. Thought your mama was better off what a light complexion man and always made remarks about me being hard to find in the dark. Nasty shit,"

"Daddy!" Michonne admonished her father's use of foul language.

"What sweet pea? The man called me 'midnight' for years, til I beat his ass, metaphorically speaking of course," her father said with a cheeky smile.

A few beats passed as Michonne took in what her father had admitted to her. Although they didn't see her mother's family much anymore, during holidays in the past Uncle Lu was always saying weird stuff about her not wearing too many bright colors, or commenting on her hair.

"Just, either wear that Merle down or kick his ass. Either way, he's gonna learn not to cross a Deville," Reg said, taking a sip of his coffee and dismissing his progeny in one fell swoop.

* * *

The ringing of the landline roused Michonne from her midday nap. She'd taken her copy of _Harry Potter and theOrder of the Phoenix_ and created a blanket fort in the living room. Stumbling to get the receiver, Michonne answered on the fourth ring.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Oh Michonne dear, it's nice to hear from you, it's Deanna," Mrs. Monroe said.

"Hi, Deanna. Do you want to speak to my daddy?" Michonne asked, "Actually, I'd like to speak with you if it's alright," Deanna replied politely. She didn't have much in the way to say to Deanna, but was open to a conversation. "Sure. How can I help you?"

"Well, as you may know, Reganold and I have gotten close over the last few months and I'd like to get to know you more while you're still in town," Deanna said "We could get lunch to start if that makes you more comfortable," she continued, as Michonne paced the living room, absentmindedly picking up things to distract herself.

This wasn't a big ask by any stretch of the imagination, and she admired Deanna for reaching out to her.

"Ugh, sure. Lunch works," Michonne said.

"Friday?" Deanna inquired, hoping to get a move on.

"Can we do Saturday?"

"Sure dear, Saturday," Deanna rattled off her phone number and promised to confirm with her before hanging up.

Surprised by the earnest call from Deanna, Michonne fished around the living room for her cell phone. It'd been a few hours and Daryl usually sent a text or called before "going off road" with Merle. Checking her phone she noted a grainy photo with a finger in the frame, Daryl's smiling face beaming back at her with the text 'Grizzly Man' underneath. Michonne sent Daryl a selfie blowing a kiss before heading to the kitchen for a snack. She remembered that she owed Shane a call, and made good on the short conference. Shane had agreed to pick her up after his shift at the station and drive her to Andrea's. With nothing more to do and her father at his yoga class, Michonne ventured back into her room. Picking through her dresser Michonne found a mix-cd titled _the chillax mix_. The well-worn artefact reflected the mid-day light coming through the open blinds, causing a ghost of a smile to cross Michonne's face.

* * *

Pulling the last loc-knot out, Michonne marveled at the volume of curls adorning her head. The day before she'd gotten bored reading and went on a _YouTube_ binge of tutorials for her shoulder length dreadlocks. Needless to say, when Reg found her before dinner with music blasting and an array of hair products scattered in precarious places on her bed and her hair halfway done, he burst into pearls of laughter. But, look who had the last laugh as Michonne checked herself out with an approving nod. She'd opted for her leather riding boots, navy blue skinny jeans and khaki green v-neck knit sweater, knowing anything she'd wear was going to smell like firewood and smoke for a few days. Her phone chimed indicating Shane was outside. The familiar nostalgia of kissing her daddy before grabbing her keys and bag by the door wafted over her body.

She tingled with anticipation as she ran down the front steps and slammed Shane's truck door. After a quick hug from Shane, he turned the car into drive and sped off into the evening. Shane was still wearing his brown police uniform and sunglasses, even though the sun was going down by the minute. He smirked at Michonne and turned up the radio as the first lyrics of _Renegade_ by _Styx_ began. Michonne quirked an eyebrow as Shane's solid baritone could be heard, as she joined in " _and I don't have very long"._ The tension broken, the two danced as the music blasted and they sped to Andrea's.

"I draw the line at Journey!" Michonne screeched as Shane slapped her hand away from the volume knob. While she pleaded with him to change the song, Shane belted _Don't stop Believing_. Pulling up to the curb of Andrea's small yellow home Michonne turned to Shane and asked: "Where's Trish?"

"Who?" Shane inquired. "Figures… The girl you were shopping for Christmas trees with?"

"That's her name? We broke things off yesterday," Shane shrugged "Can't bring no girl over to Andrea's,"

"You and 'Drea again?" Michonne huffed. The saga of Shandrea was a nightmare and romance novel gold. They broke up, made up, broke other people's hearts, it got old real fast. "Nothin's happening' with us. That bitch is still with that tall lanky debutant," Shane said. Glaring daggers at Shane, Michonne said "Don't call her a bitch! And that's what you get for being a huge asshole to her,"

"Girl wanted something I couldn't give her now," Shane said with a shrug. "Well, why you mad she's found it with someone else?" Michonne asked with a raised brow. But before Shane could response two quick raps on Michonne's window broke the conversation up.

"Y'all comin?" Rick asked with his hands resting on the top of the truck, a bemused smirk gracing his lips. Michonne glanced at Shane before stepping out of the car.

Michonne walked into Andreas house, the brightly lit khaki colored rooms adorned with pieces of one of her oldest friends Life. Pictures of Andrea, her sister Amy, and their mom were above the mantle in the living room and a small sitting room. The hallway led to an open eat-in kitchen where strangers and friends milled around. The bedrooms were located on the second floor along with a full bath.

Andrea squealed at the sight of Michonne walking into the kitchen. Placing a bottle of vodka down on the marble countertops she threw her arms around Michonne in a familiar hug, swaying side to side.

"You're looking hot" Andrea offered, stepping back to look her best friend over. Andrea was wearing a cream colored cashmere sweater, blue jeans, and brown riding boots.

"You hit the bottle early?" Michonne jokes, causing a laugh to escape her friend. Andrea taking Michonnes hand led her around to meet some of her coworkers from her law firm. Michonne politely greeted everyone, answering questions about her relationship with Andrea and where she lived, the basic getting to know you fare. Finally, Michonne and Andrea found a quiet corner to catch up.

"How long are you in town?" the blonde asked in an accusatory manner.

"Another week, til after Christmas." Michonne answers.

"Where's the guy?" Andrea asked "hunting?"

"Seriously? I know he thinks I'm a lot, but planning a hunting trip to avoid me as a bit much Mich!"

"Merle..." Michonne began "Say no more. Will I at least see y'all on Christmas Eve?" Andrea continued.

"Of course pretty lady! It's tradition" Michonne said, gracing her friend with a bright and apologetic smile.

Unlike the other friends, Andrea had met Daryl and Michonne was glad that at least one of her friends tried to stay actively engaged in her life.

"How's it been?" Michonne asked "Fine. Amy is in her junior year" her friend replied.

"Already! We're getting old!" Michonne faux gasped. "The firm is going well, maybe another two years and I'll make partner. Dale is going to retire soon"

"He still looking at you like his last great hope?"MIchonne asked with an almost grimace.

"Yeah, I'm never sure if he likes me as a daughter or if he's rocking the creepy old man,"

"Oh, it's a little of both. Like stepdaughter fantasy" Michonne deadpanned. Andrea hit her arm and laughed. "I miss you!" Andrea squealed "I know. But California isn't that far, and you can visit," Michonne shrugged reducing the sting of Andrea's unspoken complaint.

"Visit where?" Glenn said walking up to the two women and embracing them both.

"California." Michonne offered. "Yeah right! You lived in Atlanta for 8 years and these dopes never set foot in your place" Andra said giving Glenn the stink eye.

"I was busy," Glenn said, and added, "I said I was sorry"

"But Andi's right. Y'all could go see Rick but never came by?" She said with accusation and hurt in her voice.

"Michonne! You were going to an all girls school. We didn't know if we could come by" Glenn replied in his defense.

"I had an apartment junior year, so don't lie! Glennie, your ears get red when you lie, it's your tell" Michonne replies giving Glenn the eye.

"I've got a real adult job now, so I'll visit for real" Glenn said with such earnestly Michonne had to smile.

"Fine! But it has to be by June of next year. You get six months to make up for 8 years of neglect!"

"Deal," Glenn said

"Let's make a pact," Andrea offered.

"Oh no! The last time we did one of those I distinctly remember jumping on Mrs. Niemeyer's pool naked," Michonne said.

"Did someone say naked?" Shane said, emerging from out of nowhere.

"Of course!" Andrea said, laughing at his timing.

"We're making a pact to visit Mich next year" Andrea offered.

"The last time we made a pact we all got shitty tattoos," Shane offered.

"Umm... no, the last time we made a pact we all had to run from the cops!" Andrea said.

"Please don't bring that up around the narc" Glenn said referring to Shane.

"Hey now! I was also bare ass naked with you fools. And I ain't no narc Glenn. Otherwise I'da told you Grammie that you were making her sign Adderall prescriptions you didn't need in high school so you could peddle drugs to the smarties." Shane said. "Dude! So were you!" Glenn said, "I plead the fifth!" Shane responded with his right hand up in surrender.

"Now that we've established that you are all criminals" Michonne began.

"Now hold on there Miss perfect. If I do remember you were sneakin' out the house to come party with us criminals after curfew." Shane said to which Andrea jumped in "Didn't you also steal your "daddy's" car to go to go see _Fallout Boy_ with me and Amy?"

"Oh! Didn't you also dress up as Janet Jackson from the _If_ music video for one Halloween and do the dance? I mean, it was raunchy!" Glenn included.

"Body shots..." Rick said, walking in on the conversation "What?" Michonne said, nearly choking "You made us do body shots senior year," Rick said with a shurg.

"Ok! I get it! I'm bad too! It's not my fault! You all corrupted me!" Michonne said, smiling at each of her friends. This was what they did, tell stories, got in trouble and bailed each other out.

As Michonne shook her head Andrea passed shit glasses around with clear liquor.

"What is this?" Michonne smelled the very strong liquor.

"Tequila!" Andrea said excitedly. "Dear god, help us!" Shane said.

"Ok, let's do it! To the crew!" Andrea said, as they all cheered and threw back the liquor. A few grimaces and a "whoo" later the friends left their island for the outdoors and the awaiting fire.

* * *

Michonne sat in the Adirondack lounger nursing a beer and watching the fire. Andrea's back yard was smaller than her childhood home's yard, but had enough space for a grey stone fire pit, with room for guests to walk towards the back oak fence. A few people Michonne had never met stood in a circle on the deck talking boisterously, while she spied Glenn and Shane near the fence talking with their heads close together. Although it was December, many folks still wore light coats and were comfortable away from the flames. The faint sound of some generic pop song wafted through the chatter as Michonne glanced up to see Rick walking towards her holding a bottle of something and two tumbler glasses.

"What ya thinking about?" Rick asked, sitting to her left and placing the glasses and the bottle between them. "Nothing really. I'm trying to enjoy the party," she said, glancing at him out the corner of her eyes. "Well, I've got something that will help with that," he offered, pulling the bottle of bourbon up to her face. A ghost of a smile turing her lips up as she watched him pour two hefty fingers of brown liquor into each glass. A clink and a 'cheers' later, Michonne grimaced as the warm liquor ran down her throat into her belly. The two sat in companate silence for a while, enjoying the crisp air of a December sipping slowly and waiting for the other to say what they both were thinking.

* * *

Floating in a warm bubble of inebriation, Michonne sat comfortably on Andrea couch. Rick rested close to her, his thigh touched hers as his arm rested casually behind her shoulders on the couch. Glenn laid on the floor, staring up at the ceiling as Shane and Andrea sat cross legged around Andreas coffee table. The party had long since ended, yet the five friends remained. It was rolling onto 2 am and no one was making any moves to leave. Shane was in no state to be driving anyone home so the group lazed about without decisions to be made about where to go. Andrea abruptly got up, offering Michonne her room and the guys the office/guest room and he couch. Glenn's gentle snores could be heard coming from the floor, and Shane shuffled towards the guest room.

Michonne made no move to get up, and Rick seemed content to keep her company. Although she'd moved, making space between their bodies, the tension between the two was thick. Michonne's labored breath could be heard in concert with Glenn's erratic and lulling snores. A loud thump could be heard upstairs followed by a slamming door. Michonne sighed, not making eye contact, as she silently got up and walked to investigate. Opening Andrea's room door, she found an empty bed. Letting out another sign, Michonne turned from the open door and in a whir, was in Rick's arms. Moving her hand up against his firm chest, she took a step back towards the room, as he took a step forward.

"Guess we're sharin'," he said with a nonchalance which irked her.

"I'll sleep on the couch," she responded, moving away from him and trying to pass the wall his body had created.

"Come on M, I'll behave," he offered, taking her hand which rested at her side, and guiding her into Andrea's room.

Twenty minutes later, Michonne laid under the covers in her shirt and a pair of sweats she found in Andrea's closet. She could feel the heat radiating off of Rick's practically naked body. The pillow separating them, the barrier she'd created to put some physical space from them.

"You sleep?" he asked, not hearing her breath even out. "No," she said firmly.

"What ya thinkin about?" he followed, the smirk present in his voice. "How I always manage to get in bed with you, and how it's a pain in my ass!" she replied exasperated.

"Did you really have to?" Rick asked, knowing that she'd never admit that she's here by here of her own volition. "How does this happen every time?" Michonne said out loud. "Well, we a boy and a girl like each other…" Rick began. "Stop!" she said with annoyance.

"Why do you act like this thing between us isn't simple?" Rick finally asked after a couple moments of silence.

"Cuz it's not simple. I'm engaged!" she said. "Whose fault is that?" Rick said, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Don't… You didn't want whatever bullshit this is, so don't act like I didn't choose you," she finally replied, moving her head to the side to face him.

"But I did," "Bullshit Grimes! You like to make me squirm around you, be secretive and sneak around, but the minute things get anywhere near the light, you scurry away like a roach," Michonne said.

"I never said I didn't want to be with you," he replied in his defense.

"You never had to Rick," Michonne said, finally unloading on him.

"Tell me how you really feel" Rick mumbled, which got him a swift punch in the arm. Michonne laid down with a heavy head on her pillow, wondering just how she'd gotten back here. The silence that blanketed them was heavy. The faint sounds of Rick breathing out his mouth an indication that he hadn't gone to sleep. Sighing, Michonne turned to him and asked: "you sleep?"

"Nah. Got a lot on my mind," Rick replied. "Like what?" she said, knowing she didn't want the answer but waited for it anyway.

"Like the first time we had an adult sleepover," he said. Michonne could practically see his eyebrows wiggle.

"You're a mess, you know that," she replied, relaxing into the pillow and staring up at Andrea's ceiling. "What! This is what we do M," Rick said with a finality in his worlds. Was this what they did? Michonne wondered. They'd done this cat and mouse game for almost 10 years, since high school, and she wasn't sure if she was the cat or the mouse most of the time. Sometimes she felt like the cat, like the open one, the one seeking, but tonight, in the quiet between darkness and dawn, she felt more like a mouse- foolishly thinking she could outsmart the hunter.

"I don't think so Rick. I'm not playing games with you. We're friends, that's it," Michonne said.

"We ain't friends Michonne, and we for sure ain't done yet," he replied, letting the words settle into her.

"I'm not sleeping with you," she said, with a sigh. "What do you think we're doing here then?" Rick said. Michonne laughed, of course, he'd use her words against her. "You know what I mean," she replied.

"I do know. But I'm good just sleeping with you," Rick replied, sliding closer to the pillow barrier and glancing at her face.

"That's what you said the first time…" she offered. "Nah M, you remember what I said the first time," Rick says, sliding his right hand along her cheek. "I do. You were such a flirt…"


	5. Ch 5 out of nothing comes nothing

A/N: *Shimmies through the door* I'm back! And boy are my arms tired! So sorry for the major delay in posting, life's been life and I've been working on getting some balance. *claps* ok! So this chapter is an experiment, and I'm hoping y'all enjoy it. Thanks for the kind words of encouragement and for giving this little story a chance. I'ma do better with updates but as O'Town said "don't make me promises, baby you never did know how to keep them well" and I'm gonna just say I'll try. Also the song I quote in here is Mitski's 'Townie' (big up to Mitski for getting me through!). Ok! On to reading. -my best, my worst AZ.

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"That is not what happened, and you know it!" Michonne exclaimed as she rested her hands in her palms staring into the deep set of blue eyes.

"Sure is," Rick replied, turning to face her. They'd been reminiscing for the past 20 minutes, going over dates and times and all the things two people in something complicated do. "No, cuz I came to your house remember…"

 _Shit! Michonne thought as she lugged her duffle bag up the stairs of the dingy apartment. She didn't realize there would be so many stairs. Walking to the top floor of the three-story apartment, Michonne stared at the dingy walls. The faded paint had seen better days, and the dingy "welcome" mats that littered the hallways looked worn and frequently used. Stopping at 3E, Michonne dropped her bag with an unceremonious thud. She lifted her hand to knock on the door, but it swung open quickly revealing a smiling Rick Grimes._

 _His baby face from the summer before beaming with mirth. His golden tan, faded a bit from lack of outdoor activities, and his arms flexed in his mud brown shirt and distressed blue jeans. She smiled at him, as he gestured for her to enter his apartment, which consisted of one long hallway. Two rooms framed the left side, and a modest bathroom rested between the bedrooms. Rick picked up her bag, commenting on the heft of her life in the duffle. Dropping it in his room, he ushered her to the far end of the hallway, which revealed an eat-in kitchen with two chairs and a small wooden table. Pizza boxes rested in the corner and beer cans were stacked in a tower structure._

"There definitely were not stacks of beer cans M. You know I hated beer and Dille only drank Dr. McGillicuddy's," Rick jumped in. "Lies. There was definitely a beer tower, and we sipped some shitty High Life in your kitchen for like two hours" Michonne retorted. "I don't remember it like that" Rick said. "Well, how do you remember it?"

 _Rick and Michonne sat in the cramped kitchen in the two wooden chairs at the rubberwood drop leaf circular table, taking sips of rapidly warming beer on a relatively cool evening. They'd skipped through the conversation about coursework, and had landed on hopes and dreams. "I mean, I'd like to be a lobbyist. That way I can impact the most change" Michonne said with the certainty of youthful exuberance. Rick remained quiet, contemplating if he had any say in what he'd "like to be when he grew up", and coming up short. "You'll be great at whatever you do,"Rick remarked. "So will you," Michonne replied, moving her hand that was resting on the table to his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Woah," she mused feeling the muscles come alive under her grip._

"I'm going to stop you there. That is a whole ass lie Grimes. I did not say woah and I definitely don't remember that little heart to heart," Michonne mused. "Well, then you tell it," Rick replied.

" _So where am I sleeping?" Michonne asked with a mouth full of toothpaste. She'd changed into a pair of thin shorts and a sheer tank top. After washing her face, she'd come to Rick's room to figure out their sleeping arrangements. She watched as he stripped into a pair of boxers and was in the midst of pulling his shirt over his head. "You're looking at it," he remarked, gesturing to his lofted bed, which left little room between his bed and the ceiling. His room could only fit the bed, a stationary desk and a dresser. A pregnant pause passed before she replied, "I'm not sleeping with you Rick"._

 _Michonne had assumed she'd sleep in his bed, and he'd sleep, well somewhere else. "Does it look like I got a couch in this place?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "What about Dille's room?" she said "What about it. He's a manchild, and I'm not getting some ant bites before I go home to see Butch. You know he's always up my ass about somethin'," he remarked. "Plus, it's college. This was inevitable," he said with a certainty that irked her. "Whats "inevitable"? Huh…" she followed. "Come on M, you gonna pretend like you didn't kiss me last summer?" he said, moving closer to her, watching as she attempted to swallow before realizing she still had toothpaste in her mouth._

" _That was an impulsive decision" "Well, let's be impulsive" he said waiting for her to leave listening to the water run in the bathroom for a few minutes before walking into the bathroom. Rick watched Michonne stare at her reflection, water droplets falling from her chin back into the basin. He moved into the fluorescent light of his tiny bathroom and stood behind her, grazing her side to get his toothbrush. "Rick" Michonne purred as she felt his other hand snake around her to grab the toothpaste. Against her better judgment, or maybe because of it, she leaned back into his chest and felt his hands encircle her waist. Simultaneously being pulled back and pressed against the sink, Michonne turned her head to stare into the intense storm of Rick's eyes. Her body taking on new life as her hip bones pressed into the sink as her ass pressed into his growing excitement. Toothbrush and toothpaste in both hands, Rick groaned in frustration. "I gotta brush my teeth M," he said, watching her eyes glaze over in the mirror and a sigh escaped her lips. "We really doing this?" she asked._

Rick guffawed at Michonne's recount. "You're tellin' it like some Harlequin novel. You know damn well, I didn't stop to brush my teeth," Rick relayed, leaning in close to get a peek at the blush that covered Michonne's face. "You did! I remember you looking me in the eye and saying you gotta brush your teeth fool," she said.

"Michonne... You know damn well how it went." "Well Rick, how did it go from there?" Rick leaned in closer to her personal space, like he was about to whisper a best-kept secret into her ear and said "Well first, I took off those underpants that you called shorts and then I played with my favorite toy for a while and made you watch me. Then, when you were panting my name and couldn't take anymore, I bent you over the sink and fucked your brains out. After that…" Michonne's cheeks were about to explode and a sigh escaped her lips before she could stop herself. Catching her bearings, she took a slide back and said "After that, we fucked in the shower and your bed, and I got home two hours later then I'd told my daddy," she said matter of fact. "Cuz someone wanted a wake up call," Rick said with a knowing smirk. At this point most of the pretense between them rested in the pillows that Michonne used to physically separate their bodies.

"I can't be doing this Rick," she said, feeling her nipples harden and a familiar tingle down below. "We aren't doing anything, cuz if we were there'd be no coherent words comin out that pretty mouth of yours but my name and God, and we all know they're on in the same."

"You're shameless... " she said, hitting his arm "Ain't no shame in my game Michonne. I know you. So, I'ma let you do whatever you think is best, but this thing between us is forever," he remarked leaving her speechless. "Nah, you only want me cuz I'm not available…" she replied minutes after mostly to herself but knowing he heard her. "Who said you're not available?" he laughed.

* * *

Michonne sat in the quiet of the Jitterbug Cafe, the local cafe of her childhood. The wooden tables newly varnished in the last two years, and the vaguely familiar smell of scones and roasted coffee beans wafting through the air. Deanna had arranged their meeting to occur at noon, but like any overachiever, Michonne has gotten there early. She's told herself it was to get good seats, but really, she'd come to get settled for what she assumed would be an awkward conversation. Contemplating what to say to her dads' defacto girlfriend wanted to discuss. Did women of a certain age call themselves girlfriends she mused, as the door chimed and in walked the formidable Deanna Monroe wearing khaki pants and a fitting Cali green polo shirt. Deanna projected a quiet confidence Michonne hoped to embody someday. Her wistful thoughts evaporated as Deanna rounded the adjourning table to stand in front of her. Michonne rose and embraced her with a familiarity that surprised her. After getting their orders taken from the over-eager barista, Michonne and Deanna sat facing one another. Seizing the moment of silence, Michonne gathered her hair that rested on her shoulder and swept it to the other side in a nervous tick of sorts.

"Thank you for meeting with me Michonne," Deanna began after their coffee mugs were unceremoniously dropped at the table.

"Of course. Am I glad you suggested lunch? Otherwise, I'd be eating chocolate graham crackers and watching the Flash," Michonne remakes in a childish whimsy.

"You and my son Aden have a lot in common," Deanna remarked, as Michonne chuckled.

"I'm not one for small talk dear so I'll get to the point. I am, how do the kids say it now, smitten with your father," Deanna said "the kids don't say smitten," Michonne jumped in "fair point..." Deanna continued with a smirk "Reg and I are hoping that you and my kids would want to meet this Christmas" Deanna said without flourish.

"Oh," Michonne said "Ugh.. sure. I'd like to meet your kids." She said with a genuine smile. "I thought it was going to be something more intense," Michonne said with calm. "Like your father and I getting married?" Deanna said with mirth. Michonne groaned at being called out and read a book. "Not exactly, but close" she replied.

Their plates of food came out during a lull in the conversation. After quick cheers, the women settled into a companionate silence to eat. Glancing at one another before focusing on their meals. A splattering of conversation flowed as Deanna asked about graduate school, as Michonne asked about Deanna's retirement and her boys, who are younger and Michonne didn't know from growing up. At the end of the meal, the door chimes again and a familiar tall bow legged handsome face came into the frame. Michonne smiled and nodded an acknowledgment in his direction before watching Deanna give him the once over. Michonne furrowed her brow and Deanna laughed.

"I may be old, but that is one fine piece of pie," Deanna remarked, and Michonne snorted, full on at the comment. "He's alright" Michonne offered. "Your young man, that Dixon is also a tall glass of water," Deanna said with a knowing smile, all teeth. "Daryl is. Hopefully, he's using water this weekend," Michonne remarked. Knowing her fiancé was likely knees deep in some tall grass or wooded area three days without a shower. The whole mountain man thing was hot to her in theory, but she wasn't up for shower less days like Daryl. "Reg said he's gone hunting with his brother."

"Yeah. They do a big trip every year and now that we're in LA, Merle tries to maximize all of Daryl's time" Michonne replied. "A piece of advice Michonne. You can never compete with a man's family til you become family. Then, god willing, y'all are already on the same side" Deanna remarked. Michonne nodded in understanding, thinking how maternal the statement was and how she wishes her own mother was here to impart similar wisdom. Michonne hummed into her coffee mug, taking a moment to respond when Rick walked up to the table, a devilish grin plastered on his face.

"Afternoon ladies," he said laying it on think with the drawl. Michonne rolled her eyes as Deanna's smile widened. "Hey..." Michonne replied in a flat noncommittal tone. "M, you're not gonna introduce me to your lovely lunch partner?" He said looking almost believably offended. "You're grown. You can sure talk," Michonne responses.

"Hi, I'm Rick Grimes," he said extending his hand which Deanna took and shook firmly. "Deanna Monroe. You're Butch's boy. How's the family?" Deanna asked knowing damn well who he was. They may not have lived in the same town, but everyone knew the Grimes family, or at least of them. "They're good ma'am. How's Aden and Spencer?" Rick asked Michonne peeked up with interest.

"How do you know her kids?" Michonne asked, "Can't tell you all my secrets now can I Michonne?" Deanna watched quietly as the two continued to banter, Rick asking Michonne how she got through Friday and making a suggestive comment about her sleeping habits.

"Well ladies, I'll leave you to your meals... oh, and Michonne, come see about me fore you go back to the land of beautiful people. I got somethin for ya" he said before turning on his heels and sauntering off. A pregnant pause accompanied his departure before Deanna raised an eyebrow. "You and Rick seem close," Deanna said without judgment.

"We've been friends for a long time," Michonne responded. Deanna gave an unconvinced 'umm'. "That all?" Deanna pressed, and Michonne didn't know why but she felt she owed an explanation to Deanna or herself. "We dated in college," Michonne continued.

"Is that what you kids are calling it now?" giving the younger woman a knowing look. "We have a complicated relationship," Michonne continued. "That is abundantly clear. How are you uncomplicating it?" Deanna asked, watching Michonne think through the question. It wasn't that she was leading Rick anywhere, she was perfectly happy with her life, and her relationship with Daryl, but Rick reminded her of that piece of herself that was wild and carefree, and recklessness was always her drug of choice.

"By leaving after the holidays?" Michonne offered with a meek sincerity causing Deanna to laugh, the sound like bells chiming and the first drops of rain.

"When I was a girl…" Deanna began "I had a torrid love affair with my piano teacher. I know you're thinking, how cliche, but he was warm and passionate and I was in love with the idea of him. We shared many years of complications as you said, even going so far as talking about eloping. And one day, I met my husband who was kind, and careful with my heart and I loved being loved by someone so fully. Matthew and I had stopped speaking at that point and I moved on until he showed up at my engagement party. And in that moment I had to make a choice, to live a life of halfway with a man who made my cells feel alive or create a life with a man that was a calming balm to my soul." Michonne sat with rapt attention as Deanna divulged her story.

"You already know what I decided… Michonne you have to choose what you want. If you're really happy, then be happy, but don't live life halfway. No one person is going to give you everything, but if they're giving you their all, you have to decide if that's enough." Deanna finished her tale, meeting the younger woman's eyes in understanding.

The two women sat in silence for a few moments before picking a topic of discussion and finishing their lunches. At the end of lunch, the two women embraced one another, Michonne's head resting atop the older women in a relational hug. Deanna whispered "ex nihilo nihil fit" to which Michonne nodded. Walking to her father's car she milled over the conversation, turning the ignition on and putting on the playlist Daryl had created for her. She skipped through some slow twangy tunes before settling on a fast pace drum start. Glancing at the center console she laughs at the name of the song, an apt title for the lyrics. She turns the volume up as the the guitar picks up for the second verse:

 _Smell that, it's wet grass, and smoke in my hair_

 _I think I've had enough_

 _But he wants a finale and I came prepared_

 _And we're not going back_

 _And I've tried sharing and I've tried caring_

 _And I've tried putting out_

 _But the boys boys boys keep coming on for_

 _More more more_

 _And change change change is gonna come, but_

 _When when when?_

 _And I want a love that falls as fast_

 _As a body from the balcony, and_

 _I want a kiss like my heart is hitting the ground_

 _I'm holding my breath with a baseball bat_

 _Though I don't know what I'm waiting for_

 _I am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be_

Michonne pulled into the driveway still humming. Exiting the car she walked through the front door calling out to her dad, who she assumed was home. Michonne rounded the corner and walked towards the back of the house and nearly jumped out of her skin at the giant leg hanging in her backyard and her fiance shirtless in December with a knife in his teeth and earbuds in. The scream that almost escaped her lips died in her throat as the scene came to focus and she got acclimated. She didn't want to scare him and get stabbed. She'd learned the hard way the first year he'd come back from hunting and was skinning some woodland critter in the kitchen.

Michonne rapped at the door to get his attention before scrunching up her nose at the literal bucket of blood at his feet. The smile that graced his face brought a flutter to her belly. She glanced up at his big hands gripped the knife, his tousled hair falling into his eyes as he glanced down at her. "You're back!"


	6. Chapter 6 found and lost

Michonne didn't know when she'd gotten it, maybe it was two holiday seasons ago, after she'd gotten over the aversion to picking at pieces of dead animals for numerous purposes, but she stood in her apron with a butcher knife. Hacking at some part of a deer like she was the Sweeney Todd, the crunch of bone bouncing off the walls in a rhythmic "twack". After getting home and finding Daryl busy at work she donned her trusty apron to help in the preparing and preservation of the spoils of his hunt.

"You know, you'd be really handy if the world ever came to an end," Daryl remarked as she began separating pieces to be dried into jerky. "Ima also be real nice to ya so I never lose my balls," he smirked as she laughed at his comment.

They worked in silence only punctuated by a grunt from Daryl or a small but present "eww" at a squishy bit. The afternoon turned into evening as meaty parts were salted, placed on drying racks and a quick shower was had. Now in loungewear, Michonne and Daryl sat with the leftovers from the Friday dinner munchkins had tried to make. A very hungover Michonne had thrown together some homemade crisps and a far too large chicken for one person, but the lady had goals, and wants.

"How's your shitbird of a brother?" She finally asked after pulling another piece off the bone with her fingers. They'd forgone cutlery, and the two lovers sat on the living room floor with the coffee table littered with their meal and a smattering of drinks. Daryl would always make fun of how many beverages she managed to amass in one sitting- water, juice, a beer maybe, all lined up in front of her, like a Goldilocks who wanted something just right. "Merle's'good" he said with somewhat of a shrug and a passive sigh. "He comin' for dinner this year finally?"

"Will there be any single ladies for him to harass?" Daryl responded with a little chuckle. The death stare that followed softened his cheeks and a flush passed over his face.

"Says he is Chonne. He's just stubborn" Michonne nodded and got up to use the washroom. Upon return, Daryl had picked up the scraps and placed things in the dishwasher. Her drinks were left, and a small cupcake. They took turns eating the treat while surfing the exhaustive list of movies no one really wants to watch on Netflix. "What about..." she began. "Not the Iron Giant again. We've been over this" Daryl said from the hallway bathroom. "Coco?" She said more than asked. He relented, knowing there aren't hills worth dying on with his fiancé.

An hour and some change later, Michonne was balling into Daryl's shoulder. She'd gone from sniffles to a full wail, curling into his broad shoulders and resting her feet in his lap, like an oversized child who wasn't ready to grow up yet, wanting to be carried around and soothed. The sound of the door clicking drew Michonne out of her stooper, as her father walked into the living room to his daughter's tear-streaked face and the chorus of "remember me" blaring through the speakers. "Coco" he said in Daryl's direction, "Yeah" Daryl responded absentmindedly running's I hands down Michonne back as she whimpered like a hurt cat. "Gets me every time" Reg said with a laugh before exiting the room with a chuckle.

That evening Michonne sat on her childhood bed with a wistful and faraway look. Daryl rested his back against the wall, reading something on his tablet like a old man deep in study. "What ya doing?" Daryl finally remarked when she hadn't moved from her spot. "Thinking" she responded. She'd been doing a lot of thinking after her time with Deanna, about the road she was on, about choices and wanting. Daryl swept her hair to one side, laying a kiss to her collarbone and waking her from her thoughts.

"What ya thinking about?" He asked, moving his hand along her spine in that familiar way. A slow sigh escaped her lips as she leaned into his touch. "About the future" she offered, wanting to say more but unsure how to begin. A umm slipped from him lips as he moved closer to encircle her middle, peppering kisses onto her neck. "You really took Coco to heart, didn't ya" he remarked. "I guess so." she responded, entwining their fingers and resting her back against his firm chest. The subtle scent of firewood and salt wafting around her. Closing her eyes, she felt the steady heartbeat of the person she was going to marry someday. The desire to say more, to ask if he was sure about her pushed at her lips.

"'Chonne…" he started a few beats later "whatever happens in the future, I got you. You're it for me" he finished, giving her temple a smooch before retreating to his resting post at the top of the bed. "I know D. You've got me" she replied. As she drifted off Michonne conjured up the image of her perfect day. A lush field of lilacs spanned to the horizon. Glancing down, she noticed the hem of an auburn dress. A glass of wine in her hand as two unruly haired children ran through the field at a distance. She couldn't make out their faces, but felt the palpable joy of youthful exuberance. From her left she heard her name and felt a firm hand snake around her middle.

"This is perfect," he said, and the voice felt distant and close, far away and yet intimately present. "It is" she replied, glancing at the gold wedding band adorning his left ring finger. "Sun's startin' to set. Should we grab them and head home?" he asked. "Five more minutes," she said, leaning into his chest. "We don't get days like this," she remarked. "Let's just be here for a little longer. What do you think?" she said turning to face the man that was her husband. And just like that the world turned a grayscale as her eyes opened. Dary's face laid against her pillow, his deep breaths slipping through his lips and his chestnut hair falling along the pillow. She gently brushed his eyebrows and turned towards the side table she reached for her buzzing phone as one name stood out in white letters on a black background.

* * *

A day later Michonne turned the knob of the door and walked into the twilight of an empty foyer. Work boots were placed on an organized shoe rack next to running shoes and what her mama use to call house shoes. Bypassing the rooms she walked towards the kitchen, where she found him with a towel on his shoulder, and a joint in hand. A lazy smile spread across his face, as she emerged into the eat-in kitchen. On the woodblock island laid a spread of ingredients for a meal not yet made, and a small box wrapped in silver foil the light refracting causing the flecks of silver to dance across her eyes.

"Hi" she said.

Rick moved around the counter to embrace her, his front flush to hers as he ran a hand down her back, once, twice.

She stepped back and braced against the counter. "Preparing to poison someone?" She remarked at the counter. "Making dressing for Christmas," he said with a shrug in his voice. "Since when?" She laughed a little. It'd been an uphill battle to get him to learn how to make anything for himself. He'd reason his future wife would do all the cooking, pig he was at 15.

"Things change Michie" he replied, going back to the sink to wash the carrots. "Guess so," she said, taking a seat at the kitchen island. The silence permeated the space.

"I'm here" she said, breaking the silence. "You're here" he replied, taking the cloth off his shoulder to wipe his wet hands. "So…" she said, waiting for him to answer her question. "Just one more minute" he replied, taking a drag of the joint and offering it to her. Shaking her head no, she glanced at the box wondering what in ex-lover hell he'd managed to get her this time.

"Why am I here Rick?" she asked with a huff. She had a lot of prep to do for Christmas and this wasn't really in the plan. "I too have things to make for Christmas" she continued. Rick had moved to the counter and began chopping the carrots in a methodical series of perfect circles. Some would skimper on the cutting board and roll away. As the last slice of carrot rotated to a stop he looked up and asked "Where does he think you are?"

"Who?" she asked, knowing damn well who he was asking about but wanting, no needing him to say it. "Your man"

"He has a name" she returned with a sideways look. "Don't give me that look. It's a question. Where does Daryl think you are?"

"Here," she said with a finite pop of the e. "I don't lie to him about where I'm going,"

"No, just what you do when you get there," Rick said. If he had planned to say that out loud, the look on his face as he glanced up at Michonne spoke volumes. Eyes wide, with eyebrows raised in surprise at his own gumption. "Well, it's been great. I'm going" she said lifting herself from the stool. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that"

Standing at a distance, she watched him flex his fingers before putting both hands on the chopping block. The afternoon light danced across the kitchen, as he rubbed his hands on his denim jeans and glanced up at her.

"What are we doing Rick?" she said, taking a step back as he reached for the box.

"I wanted to give you your present," he said sheepishly reaching out his hand and the box. "It's not Christmas Rick," she replied. "It's for your birthday smartass," he responded, putting a bit of levity back into the room. "What if I don't want it Rick? What are you gonna do?"

Rick Grimes, in his bravado, closed the distance between them and shrugged. "You're here aren't you" And damn, Michonnes heart picked up speed as it banged against her ribs. The piercing stare that followed sent her seeking shelter in anything but those eyes that somehow left her naked as the day she breathed her first breath on this Earth. A noncommittal 'umm' fell from her lips and she took a calculated step back.

"Guess you better give it to me, since I'm here and all," she said, crossing her arms and waiting. Rick closed the distance again, taking her crossed hands and placing the box in the middle. Leaning in he kissed her cheek and whispered, "Don't open it here. Take it with you." before stepping back and waiting to see her response. She took a gulp of air and put her hand against his shoulder, before bringing him in for an embrace. "Thank you," she said before stepping back and moving out of his physical space. "I gotta go," she said, collecting herself to make a swift exit.

"Sure. You be good, and say hi to your daddy for me," he said walking back to the kitchen island and his yet to be prepared meal. "I'll see you around Rick," she said, walking towards the front door.

* * *

In the Jitterbug Cafe parking lot, Michonne sat with her cooling late staring at the silver wrapping. She drove around for 10 minutes before deciding she needed coffee to make it through whatever was in that box. There was something comforting about being in a familiar place and the cafe was a staple in her adolescence. There she sat, willing herself to get the courage to open the box. The music had been playing softly in the background but the alto voice that came from the speaker roused her to listen. The harmonizing of three voices at the chorus resulted in a guffaw. If the universe was playing games with her, this was the perfect time.

 _I can't hear you, you're too far away_

 _I can't see you, the light is in my face_

 _I can't touch you, I wouldn't if I could_

 _I can't love you how you want me to_

 _I can't love you how you want me to_

 _I can't love you how you want me to_

After the first round, she played the song again.

 _Here's the best part distilled for you_

 _But you want what I can't give to you_

 _Your hands are gravity while my hands are tied_

On the third time around she removed the silver foil to find a simple chain, and a circular pendant with a sepia-toned map of the world perfectly replicated. On the silverback of the necklace engraved in a script read the combination of letters and numbers 33.7490° N, 84.3880° W and the words _never lost_. "The sheer audacity of this motherfucker," she said out loud before laughing herself to tears. Wiping her eyes, Michonne rested the necklace in her hand, feeling the weight of it, before unclasping it and putting it on. A quick phone check, she took a picture and sent it to the offending culprit. "You're fucking terrible" the message accompanying the photo said. "In case you ever need to find your way, you'll know how." the reply said.

 _I can't love you how you want me to_

 _I can't love you how you want me to_

 _I can't love you how you want me to_

 _-xxooooo_

 _A/N:_ Thank you for reading and my apologies for the delay in posting. Lots of reasons, life got massively busy and ya know... it happens. Thank you for giving this story a chance and I won't wait six months to get my shit together. Also the lyrics are from the song _Bite the hand_ from the album _boygenious_ -my best, my worst AZ


	7. Chapter 7

In all of the interpretations of what hell might feel like, the thump of a bass that rattles the teeth, the crooning of Rich from LFO and black lights didn't come to the foreground until that evening. Michonne stood at the snack counter tapping her fingernails to the *bumb, bumb bumb* of _Fantasy_ , humming along. Taking a moment to review her surroundings, she watched the hodgepodge of patrons meander about. Couples with young children who somehow managed to look more drunk and unstable in bowling shoes yelled after their progeny to slow down, speed up, stop. Young people in groups of at least 5 played old arcade games and walked the parameter of the lanes to spy on their crushes or make themselves known and seen. An older pair sat at a high top holding hands, the two lost in each other's silence in a way only old friends and seasoned lovers are, there's no reason to fill what's reflected. Comic bowling. Michonne didn't know how they ended up nursing warm cheap beer on the eve of Christmas eve, but there she was wearing a Santa hat and some hiking boots while _Last Christmas_ blasted through the ancient speakers.

Beer pitcher in hand, she walked slowly back to the table to find her daddy and Deanna giggling like teenagers into each other. The unfamiliarity of her father in a jovial and almost nascent state of infatuation felt like a pound of feather moving down her belly. She chided herself, everyone deserves a little light in such a dark world. Her mama said that and who was she, after all, to watch with hesitantly to something that was so obviously there.

"Beer" she announced to no one in particular. "Thanks," Daryl said, taking her hand and giving it a kiss.

"Your turn" came an unfamiliar voice. This was the last of a series of getting to know you activities orchestrated by Deanna and Reg leading up to Christmas.

Tenebrous introductions were had between Michonne and Deanna's oldest kid, Spencer. He was nice in that _may be a politician or serial killer_ kind of way. Somehow his hair managed to do that big wave thing only Banana Republic models somehow perfected. Spencer's has been added to what was turning out to be a rather eclectic holiday season. It didn't feel familiar, but it didn't feel _unfamiliar_ either. It just was. Michonne had been known to bring home strays since she was little, people who didn't feel connected to their sense of family, and so to have a new tradition with people who were more than likely going to become her family didn't feel so wrong. Guilt was always there, that she gets to be happy and whole and live while her mother doesn't, but that can't be helped. It, just, was.

"I hope y'all are ready to cry today when I wipe the floor with you," she said, walking up to gather her ball. Taking a deep breath she went to the line, brought her arm back for a swing and released the ball down the lane. The curve taking it a little too far left, clipping only a couple of pins in the process. "You talk a lot of trash for someone with no game," Reg piped up, raising an eyebrow at his overconfident progeny.

"Oh, I've got game daddy… just ask Daryl," she said with a wink. Reg released a whole belly of laughter at her repark. Deanna chucked as well while Spencer and Daryl just stared dumbstruck at her double entendre. The second ball made a steady streak down the lane and broke the formation resulting in a spare. One thing that always surprised everyone about the mostly reserved (to many) Michonne was her intense competitive streak. The woman was hell-bent on winning and talked more trash than anyone.

"You need a tissue daddy?" she asked walking back to her seat and grabbing her warm beer. In quick succession, Deanna, Daryl, and Spencer went with decent results. Deanna hit 4 pins, Daryl got a spare which he underplayed, and Spencer was 2 pins away from a strike. The atmosphere was overwhelmingly jovial and boisterous that she could almost forget all about spending an hour in her car driving around holding the gift he'd given her. She refused to wear it, not because it wasn't beautiful, it was that. She just didn't… but before the thought could materialize she heard her name being called and knew it was her turn again. The weight of the ball distracted her once again, drawing her to the present moment. There wasn't anything to think about, whatever those coordinates meant the night before, they were just empty promises like all the words said to one another all these years in heated moments that when all added up just didn't make a life. Taking her shot she flung the ball with such force it shattered the pins in formation. The strike was the nail in the coffin of the game, making her the victor. With the game over, the fivesome made their way to return their shoes and depart in preparation for the annual Deville Christmas Eve gathering.

The following morning Michonne woke early to start on dinner. This year felt different from the last two. The heavy cloud of sadness that permeated the Deville home around the holidays felt less thick, more of a light mist than a full fog. She'd taken the night after bowling to retrieve a few of her mother's recipes and was going to bake a pie in addition to all of the other foods for the day. Around nine, Daryl shuffled into the kitchen in sweatpants and a loose tank, hair a bit disheveled and a frown marring his face.

"Who spit in your coffee?" she asked, looking up from the mixing bowl filled with stuffing.

"'S Merle," he grunted "let me guess, he's not coming because of car trouble," she said with an almost dismissive air.

"Nah, he's coming. Bringin' a date," he said, walking to the cupboard and grabbing an extra large mug before heading to the coffee pot and pouring the liquid gold to the rim. Michonne raised an eyebrow, now this was quite a surprise. Mere had missed the last dinner because he'd gotten into a bar fight and spent the weekend in the drunk tank.

"I didn't tell you that he's sober now," Daryl said seemingly out of the blue after a few beats where he drank his coffee and Michonne went back to her mixing. "Good for him. I'm sure it's a relief to know that he's not going to be getting arrested anytime soon," she said and meant it. A beat later, she added "I'm proud of Merle D. He's really turning it around. And I'm so proud of you." Putting the stuffing into the oven, she dried her hands on her apron and gave him a peck before walking to the refrigerator to grab the rest of the ingredients.

* * *

Dinner happened in a blur. Deanna and her sons were there, Daryl and Michonne, Reg, Merle and his girl Lucy, and halfway through the meal Andrea showed up with her very tall and annoyingly pretentious beau Phillip, not Phil, never Phil B. With desert over the group talked amongst themselves, enjoying the season's blessings.

Andrea broke the silence as always by asking "Y'all wanna go to the bar for the annual round up?" Michonne groaned while Aden and Spencer perked up.

The annual round up was tradition round these parts for the young, the desperate, and those somewhere in between those states. While most places across the country saw Thanksgiving as the time for impromptu gatherings of friends from afar coming home to make the pilgrimage to see their families, the annual round up was the combination of a high school reunion reality television show and one of those late night party shows a la _girls gone wild_. From 10pm to 5 am, "the bar" or as it is properly named "The Courtyard" was just that, an outdoor seating haven with a smallish shack for people to go get drinks and do their business. Even in the winter months when the weather dropped to a tepid 50 degrees Fahrenheit people stood outside getting blitz til Christmas came. Mostly young people would attend the annual roundup til they hit about 35, or they had somewhere else to be, like maybe with their families, but you'd often see generations come together. Michonne had brought D the first year he'd come with her, but they didn't stay long. The last couple years they'd just stayed in and spent time with her daddy, who was going through a funk as he described it. This year though, with Deanna, it felt like a salve on his soul had materialized, and Michonne didn't want to be in the way. She also didn't really want to go, but the way Andrea was laying it on think made it hard.

"I'm down," Spencer piped up almost falling out of his chair in a boyish excitement.

"Yeah, I'd go," Aiden confirmed. Unlike Spencer, who was almost likelable, Aiden was smug and overconfident for someone who didn't know where Aleppo was. He'd gotten on swimmingly with Phillip, but Michonne was over being around both of them by the time the pie came out to the table. Phillip piped up about not wanting to engage these peons, like he even lived in their hometown.

"D?" Michonne asked, hoping he'd say no and she could use it as an excuse. Plus Merle was here and he was sober now so it would be perfect. But before the triumph of having an out could come Merle said "Y'all youngin' go on, get. Lucy and I got some dancin' of our own to do later,"

Michonne gagged, Reg and Deanna chuckled, and the others groaned while Merle wiggled his eyebrows and tickled his lady love. It was cute, well, almost cute.

"Sure, lets go," Daryl acquiesced. If Michonne could murder Andrea and resurrect her she would, at this moment. She didn't want to be hungover at Christmas, and she didn't actually want to see anyone she'd left behind in this place but here they were, _going to the bar,_ hooray.

After helping clean up the dishes and doll out some leftovers Merle and Lucy left. Aiden and Spencer drove together in Aiden's stupid huge rimmed orange SUV, the planet was weeping at the gas mileage of the car and the offensive color. Andrea had driven with Phillip, who had decided to head home to prepare for his daughter Penny to come by. Andrea really did have a thing for divorcees who weren't worth a damn. So Daryl and Michonne drove Reg's car with Andrea as their third passenger following behind the Monroe boys into the dusty night.

On that side of town, the lights always seemed dimmer and the sounds of the outside always seemed louder. It was going on 11pm and there was already a crowd. Cars lined on either side of the parking lot and across the way into the spare lot which was in actuality just a barren field that had been trampled by so many tires. The street lights cast long shadows across the entrance and the hanging lights that were strategically placed around the patio area provided an iridescent and almost ethereal glimmer to the scene. The lights bounced off the cedar wood tables, marred with graffiti from years past, cigarette butts, and condensation rings. People stood or sat around with drinks in their hands, chatting and laughing or speaking fairly loudly over the music coming from the speakers that hung from the side of the bar.

The entrance, a black painted wooden door beckoned wayward travelers and enthusiasts alike. Hand and hand, Michonne and Daryl walked in behind Andrea who had somehow managed to hike her skirt up some and twist her shirt into a crop top. It wasn't cold by any means, but it wasn't summer, but Andrea was ready to party. Plastering a smile on her face Michonne felt the wave of nostalgia wash over her as she made eyes at so many familiar faces and a few new ones. Dale, the bartender gave a questioning look to her to which she shrugged. The familiar sounds of Top 40s blasted through the speakers. Saddling up to the bar, Michonne gave her first genuine smile to Dale who picked her out of the crowd. She reached over the bar and gave him a haphazard hug and gestured to Daryl who gave a polite nod.

"Didn't think I'd see you this year," Dale said genuinely happy to see her. Dale was a family acquaintance, who had watched Michonne and her friends grow up. They'd been coming to the bar before they could drink legally and Dale would let them hang around some, and after, he'd enjoy as they returned home to celebrate all the new things that youth bring- first real jobs, new love, the occasional fight.

"Well, Andrea twisted my arm. You met Daryl once before, my fiance," she said.

He smirked, "I remember. Nice to see you young man, wasn't sure you'd be sticking around," he said with that old man wisdom that came from seeing it all. "Looks like I am," Daryl said a bit confused and affronted.

"We'll have…" Michonne began but was cut off by Andrea "Two shots of tequila each Dale and some beers," Dale beamed at his favorite girl, which, weird, but they had a special kind of friendship.

"Got it miss thing. Your roughin' of a young man is outside," he said.

"He's not my man, and thanks for the heads up Dale," Andrea said giving him a what the actual fuck response. He liked to call her out too. Everyone did, but who cares.

Returning with the shots and beers Dale waved off Michonne's attempt at payment.

"Just glad you're here girlie. We've missed you round these parts," he said, moving on to the next patrons.

"Bottoms up babies, it's gonna be a long night," Andrea screamed for no apparent reason.

The three cheers before taking their glasses and letting the burning liquid slide down their throats. The second one went down easier as they grabbed their beers and migrated to the outside patio. Factions of people milled about in clusters as they made their way to the farthest corner, the crew's designated spot for the last seven or so years. Already sitting there with a satisfied smirk on his face was Shane, taking a hearty swallow of his drink. To Shane's left, Glenn stood shaking his snifter glass lost in thought. Aiden and Spencer were nowhere to be found, but Michonne figured they'd find their way here, or just spend time with their own friends who were here somewhere. Michonne took a seat beside Daryl on the bench, feeling a bit flush from the liquor and pleasantly warm. The hesitancy of their arrival gone for the time being. The group chatted for a bit as a few of their classmates passed by giving pleasant hellos and engaging in small talk. This was nice and any doubt she had about coming were gone at the 40 minute mark.

The mood was high and Glenn had just returned from getting the next round, two extra glasses on the drink tray.

"Dale trust you with that thing?" Michonne joked.

"He should, come here often enough," Glenn returned with a wicked smile. "Speaking of regulars, you see ya boy?" Shane directed at Michonne, who looked around to reason who exactly he meant.

"Well Daryl's in the bathroom, and he's not a regular so you've got me stumped on that one," she said with a 'you've got the wrong one' look across her face. As she was going to let him have a strong word, the bench beside her dipped and an arm was slung on her shoulder.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Michonne said looking a mixture of annoyed, relieved, and nervous.

"I thought you use to call me God… or was that only…" the swift kick to the shins that came before Rick could finish his sentence caused a stir. Andrea laughed, Shane might have actually pissed himself, and Glenn choked on his swallow.

"You hurt me!" Rick said looking pissed, "Well, you deserve that and more. Stop that!" Michonne admonished trying to put some distance between their bodies before Daryl returned from the bathroom. Leaning into him so he could only hear what she was saying Michonne begged Rick to be good.

"Please don't make me regret coming tonight. And don't disrespect Daryl," creating distance she pleaded with her eyes as he just cocked his head in that familiar 'try me' way. She'd played this game before and started to quiver her plush lips as a final attempt to get him to comply.

"Oh fine. I'll be nice, gentlemanly even Chonne. But you owe me," he said, licking his bottom lip and giving it a suggestive bite. The scoff that left her lips make Rick chuckle. And that's how Daryl found them, Rick casually saddled up to his bae, an arm casually resting on her shoulder and their faces close. Clearing his throat Daryl made his presence known, Michonne jumped and scurried away, making some room for the lord between her and Rick while Rick, as always, played it cool. A cooling began to take hold until Glenn said the magical words "shots" and everyone acquiesced. The second round broke the awkward moment as they all began talking very loudly at the same time. Daryl had taken a seat on the right of Michonne while Rick kept his seat to the left. Glenn, Andrea, and Shane sat across them on the bench. The weather felt almost balmy, as Daryl was regaled with stories of their childhood.

"Tell him about Red Beard," Glenn said, beaming at the recollection about the fabled old man who lived near the lake who was apparently a pirate with, you guessed it, a red beard, who held treasures unimaginable.

"No one wants to talk about Red Beard Glenn," Andrea said.

"No, we gotta give Daryl all the dirt about Michonne's escapades as a _Suicide Girl_ ," Andrea said casually, taking a hearty sip of her gin and tonic which had magically materialized. Michonne clutched her head in her hands and groaned.

"Why? I should have never told you anything about that," she said pointing a toothpick at Andrea before throwing her lime rind at her. Daryl actually laughed, like a full-on belly laugh at this.

"See Chonne, I told you, you were _wild,"_ he said beaming.

"Well you never let us see the pics so it's like it never happened," Shane said with an almost wistful sigh. "You're a pig," Michonne said while Glenn oinked.

"I saw them," Rick said casually taking another pull of his beer. Now four pairs of eyes were staring at him while Michonne wanted to find a knife and stab him. All speaking at the same time, everyone went into a tizzy.

"Wait what?" "you're joking" "I thought you said no one saw those" And a very loud lol from Glenn. "Yeah, Mich wanted a second opinion so I picked a few. They were very tasteful, even though you had the body of a 15-year-old boy at that point," Rick said, obviously trying to get a rise out of her.

"Well, that's certainly not the case now, and I friggen _told you Richard Allen Grimes_ that was supposed to be between us," Michonne said, giving him a pointed look.

"There's just a lot of things between us, now ain't there," he said with a shrug. Michonne balked, was this motherfucker of a man really trying to do this right now? She'd had enough, and instead of giving him the time of day she knew he wanted she turned to Daryl and said " I'll show you sometime," giving him a kiss and rubbing his arm affectionately.

Drunk ass Shane at this point who had no sense of proprietary or a care in the world banged his fist demanding that he also get to see them.

"I mean, come on! We like saw each other naked for like six months," Which resulted in a collective groan from the table. Andrea and Michonne shared a look that spoke across time.

"Shane, we've all seen each other naked. You're not special there," she said with a casual air.

Michonne gave Andrea a silent thanks while Daryl, who had maybe had a few pipped up.

"Well I haven't," he said in a joking manner. It made everything feel less tense, and Michonne thanked the universe.

"Skinny dipping!" Glenn said, as if it was the only solution. A resounding "yes" emerged from the crowd with Michonne the only no. She looked at Daryl who looked happy drunk, like there wasn't a care in the world.

"Ricky, you got that heated pool at your folks house. They home?" Shane asked with hope in his eyes.

"Nah, they're at my g'ma's. I'm going tomorrow," Rick said standing up and turning to the rest of the group.

"Y'all coming? I can drive. Had two drinks and y'all can get in the truck," he offered.

"Ya got beers?" Shane said, standing up prepared to go already. "Course, Butch has a supply,"

"Remember when we use to raid all our liquor cabinets and go camping?" Glenn said, hopping off the table and gathering his belongings.

"Yeah, and you'd always end up demanding we play Danszig's _Mother_ before you passed out kneeling," Andrea responded finishing her drink. Michonne glanced a Daryl who gave her an affirmative nod.

"We can pick up the car in the morning," he said giving her knuckles a kiss. "What about Aiden and Spencer?" Michonne asked, as she was dragged out of the bar towards Ricks waiting car. "They drove together. We'll see them later," Daryl said, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Ok, I got enough room in the car for everyone but folks can ride round back if you want," Rick said giving a pointed look at Michonne. A brief flashback to summers past, laying with her back pressed against the scratchy wool of a blanket in the bed of a truck watching the world fly by. The boy beside her grasping her hand loosely as the took brief moments to stare into one another's eyes.

Coming to, she said her and Daryl were gonna hop in the back while the rest drove in the the car. She laid down as Daryl climbed in and made quick work laying beside her. She rested her hands in his as the car came to life. The roar of the engine quieted to a hum as the sky opened before them. Clouds danced by as they wizzed across the country road as they made their way to Ricks house, well his family's house. The faint sound of _Sublime_ came through the back window. Glenn and Shane sang along to _Rivers of Babylon_ off key. Michonne laughed, the familiar rush of youthful splendor spurring her on to join in. Daryl glanced at her, eyes glazed in adoration as she yelled, the wind taking her voice along the way. Before anyone realized it, they had stopped and the click of the engine brought a closure to the ride. Standing in the bed of the truck, Michonne and Daryl made quick work of gett out. Rick's modern house stood three stories high, a mammoth of a home surrounded by trees. The lights were off, and the winding drive that led to the main road was cut off by more trees.

"Yall ready?" Rick asked, eyes set on Michonne. "Yeah, let's go," she said taking Daryl's hand and jumping out of the back of the car.

(A/N: Sorry for taking forever. Here's an update I'm excited about. Rewrote this like 5 times over the last 11 months, and I think I got it. More to come, and thanks for giving this a chance. Please enjoy. Or if you're hate reading this, thank you!)


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